


Under the Rainbow

by insominia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Arguing, Background Relationships, Canon Universe, Case Fic, Coming Out, Cuddling Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Has Self-Esteem Issues, Dean Winchester Needs to Use Actual Words, Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, First Dates, Fluff, Food Sex, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Jealous Dean Winchester, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Loud Sex, Marriage Proposal, Married Life, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Multi, Oblivious Sam Winchester, Pride Month Prompts, Pride Parades, Slow Dancing, Trapped In A Closet, Trapped In Elevator, Witch Curses, free dad hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:10:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 21,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24494818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insominia/pseuds/insominia
Summary: The adventures of Dean and Cas. Catching cases, catching feelings feat. Dean's journey of self discovery and acceptance.Daily prompt challenges for Pride Month
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester
Comments: 215
Kudos: 110





	1. Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MaggieMaybe160](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaggieMaybe160/gifts).



> So [the_communist_unicorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_communist_unicorn/pseuds/the_communist_unicorn) posted a daily prompt challenge for Pride Month courtesy of [Queer Miraculous](https://queermiraculous.tumblr.com/)
> 
> For my darling MaggieMaybe - whatever this month brings you can always be assured of me in your pocket and a little Destiel for you every morning <3

The cabin had been built by Bobby a long time ago. Dean knew it was sturdy and he had never doubted Bobby’s construction abilities but the way the rolling thunder shook the beams made him wonder if they hadn’t been better seeking shelter in a motel. But then his eyes fell on Cas and he saw why such a thing was impossible.

Cas was stretched out across the couch but it wasn’t Cas that was the problem. It was the dog...wolf... _thing_ curled up in Cas’ lap. It was blue too. And it’s fur stuck up on end seeing as the thing seemed to generate static electricity. Oh...and it _did_ generate static electricity. And lightning. And for some Godforsaken reason sparks which had better not ruined Baby’s interior.

“You know,” Dean said suddenly apropos of nothing, “we could just take him out there and-”

 _And_ as if in response three bolts of lightning struck the ground only a little beyond the window at which Dean was standing. Behind him, the dog...wolf... _thing_ let out a whimper only to be soothed immediately by Cas’ hand scratching deeply around its ear. It lowered its head again, nuzzling it into Cas’ lap even though the thing was large enough to cover the entirety of Cas’ lower body.

Dean scowled and went back to watching the rain. He hated that thing. He’d hated it when it had jumped into the road and forced Dean to spin Baby off the road. They hadn’t hit the tree but it had been too damned close for Dean’s liking.   
He hated the way Cas had gotten out of the car which meant Dean had to get out of the car and had gotten drenched in a matter of seconds. That was to say nothing of the way Cas had insisted they take the dog...wolf... _thing_ with them to _keep it safe_ even though the thing had been spitting lightning just a minute ago.

“He’s just scared, Dean,” was all Cas had said to that, as though Dean was the dumb one for asking.

What made it worse was that even though the thing was clearly a monster it had still managed to stink up Baby with the smell of wet dog. It had whimpered the rest of the journey but stopped whenever Cas was stroking it. Then they’d gotten to the cabin and the thing had just made itself comfortable in Cas’ lap.

 _And Cas didn’t mind_.

“Once the storm clears we’ll return him to his owner,” Cas called patiently from the couch, reading Dean like the open book he’d always been to him.

Dean grunted but moved away from the window at last. He immediately regretted it, it’s not like there was anywhere for him to sit.

“How the hell does Raichu here hang out with the God of Lightning if it’s scared of storms anyway?” Dean hissed having eventually settled on using the edge of the coffee table as a makeshift seat.

Cas’ hand trailed through its fur. “Rai _-ju_ , Dean. He’s not a Pokemon. Although the etymology would seem to be obvious.”

Dean wasn’t so pissed that he missed Cas getting the reference for once. He would have called him up on it but the Raichu...Raiju... _thing_ stretched out and demanded Cas’ attention with its nose. Cas smiled at it softly and started stroking at its face with both hands.

Dean folded his arms and huffed. He shouldn’t have left the window with its dismal view of the storm. He wasn’t jealous. That would be ridiculous. He wasn’t jealous of the way the Raiju curled up into Cas’ lap as though it was the most comfortable place in creation. He wasn’t jealous that Cas was apparently enjoying the closeness as much as the monster was.

Dean Winchester was not jealous of the monster wrapped around Cas.

That would be ridiculous.

Totally ridiculous.

“Didn’t think you’d like cuddling so much,” Dean grumbled, turning back to the window even if he couldn’t see shit.

“What?” Cas sounded almost alarmed.

“Nothing,” Dean muttered.

He could feel Cas’ eyes on him for a few minutes longer before he was inevitably distracted by the Raiju.

Dean watched the rain pounding against the ground outside.

And wasn’t jealous.

  
  


  
  



	2. Rainbow

Sam had been up all night looking for any kind of lore on how they might go about ganking _the God of Lightning_. He hadn’t been successful and standing in a field in front of said God, Dean could see why. The guy was a cloud.

A literal cloud.

Wreathed in lightning and spitting rain. How the hell did you stab a cloud?

The dog...wolf... _Raiju_ didn’t want to leave Cas’ side, nuzzling his leg affectionately.

Dean rolled his eyes but still, the thing didn’t move.

At least until his master called. Not that he called so much as he scorched the sky with lightning. Lightning that streaked through the otherwise sunny day and brought the rain with it. Lightning that forked into three distinct flashes all of which struck Cas’ abdomen.

“Cas!” Dean shouted as he crumpled to the floor. The raiju had forgotten him already, bounding across the field and disappearing into the rain, becoming one with the clouds.

Dean was beside Cas just a moment after he’d crumpled to the floor. The rain had already soaked the grass beneath them so Dean ended up sliding more than he did running.

“Cas?” he all but screamed into Cas’ face. His eyes were closed and the only motion came from the water hammering onto his face. “No! _No no no no!_ ” Dean couldn’t help muttering under his breath.

Not like this.

Not at the hands of a frikkin _cloud_.

His shirt seemed scorched where the strikes had hit him but there was no blood. Should there have been blood?

Dean barely noticed when the rain stopped.

It was probably about the time that Cas coughed.

“Cas!” Dean breathed, dizzy with relief.

Cas rolled onto his side even though Dean didn’t move his hands. He wasn’t going to let go of Cas for anything. He coughed again but was smiling when he looked up at Dean.

“Dean...”

Dean slapped his shoulder harshly. “Don’t do that, y’hear!”

Cas started to laugh but he broke off with a wince and started coughing instead. Dean felt bad for smacking him.

The rain had cleared and the sky was blue again but not as blue as Cas’ eyes.

Never that blue.

Especially when they were lit by the soft smile on his lips as he lay against the damp grass, looking up at the bright sun as though there hadn’t been a storm just a moment ago.

“Come here, Dean,” Cas rasped as he held his arm out to Dean.

Dean stared at him for a moment, not entirely sure where this was going.

“Come here,” Cas said again, this time just outright pulling Dean against him.

Dean went but he was no less confused for it. Cas was damp beneath him but warm despite it and he pulled Dean flush against his chest, wrapping his arms around him.

Dean froze.

“If you wanted to _‘cuddle’_ , all you ever had to do was ask.”

Dean’s heart was hammering somewhere in his throat but he still managed to pull himself together enough to master an eloquent response. “Uh...what?” he asked but Cas didn’t answer. He just stared up at the sky, tracing patterns across Dean’s shoulder as though it was totally normal for them to be cuddling like this in a field.

It felt normal.

“Cas-” Dean started but his voice sounded weirdly high even to his own ears so he cleared his throat and started again. “Cas...d’you wanna get a drink with me?”

Cas’ fingers didn’t even pause in their doodling against Dean’s skin. “Yes, Dean.”

Dean took a breath. “No...I mean...like...you and me...”

“Yes, Dean. I know and my answer is still yes.”

He obviously wasn’t getting it. “No, Cas, I mean a _drink_ drink. Like a date drink.”

Cas seemed amused and he drew back a little so that he could look Dean in the face. “I _know_ what you meant and my answer is still yes.”

Dean’s mouth opened and closed several times before he settled on a vaguely surprised - “Oh. Cool!” before he settled back against Cas’ chest.

The sun was warm against them and through the haze of rain that remained around the ground the light refracted into a dozen different colours. It might have even been beautiful but Dean was looking at Cas and the sight just didn’t compare.


	3. First Date

In his possession, Dean had his FBI suit, four flannel shirts, three regular shirts, the jeans he was wearing and a slightly smarter pair of jeans. He had shoes to match the suit and his usual boots for hunting. And he had tried on every possible combination of them in front of the motel’s crappy mirror yet not one of them seemed to work for him.

Which was ridiculous seeing as these were his usual clothes and he knew he looked good. Well, he’d never had any complaints. Plenty of compliments though. Given that he usually just made sure his clothes were free of monster gunk and he’d pick someone up with a winning smile and some of his better lines. Usually women but that was ‘coz he didn’t want Sam to see him with a guy.

It’d probably be fine. But...their dad hadn’t been so…

_Anyway._

None of that mattered anyway.

He was going on a date.

With Cas.

And he wasn’t sure what he was aiming for but Dean knew he hadn’t gotten there.

He eventually settled on the nicer pair of jeans and threw a flannel over his t-shirt.

He tried to force himself to breathe. It was just a date. With Cas. Just Cas.

Except there was no ‘ _just Cas_ ’.

‘ _Just Cas’_ and the smile that could stop Dean in his tracks whatever he was doing.

‘ _Just Cas_ ’ and eyes so blue, sapphires would turn to emeralds out of sheer jealousy.

Dean scoffed even though it was only him and his reflection. What the hell was Cas even doing saying yes the way he had? Cas was…

Cas was everything.

And Dean was...well...' _just Dean'_ gravely undersold the level of messed up he was.

There was a knock at the door and Dean frowned. Cas had said he needed to get something but he had a key. Dean took a last look in the mirror. Well. He wasn’t going to get any prettier.

He opened the door expecting to see the motel owner or the maintenance guy. Not Cas. Not Cas holding out a bouquet of flowers and beaming at him as though Dean were the sun breaking through the clouds on the first day when man did not know if it would rise again.

“Cas...” he breathed and then let out a laugh that was more shock than anything else. “What’s this?”

Cas’ smile didn’t diminish in the slightest. “Alstroemeria, red tulips, red carnations-”

“I can see the colours, Cas, you don't have to tell me-”

“Flowers mean different things depending on the colours.”

“No, I-” Dean laughed again. “ _I mean_...why have you gotten me flowers?”

Cas’ smile turned shy. “It seemed an appropriate gift for our _first date_.” He even did the air quotes. Dean took the flowers and put them in the motel room’s sink. It wasn’t a good place to put them but it was all he had right now.

“Ready?” he asked Cas as though he were taking him somewhere worthwhile and not just the dive bar they’d passed on their way into town.

But Cas couldn’t stop grinning and nodded. As soon as Dean locked the door behind them Cas’ hand worked its way into Dean’s, clasping their fingers together.

“Holding hands is also customary, I believe,” Cas said like the proverbial cat who’d gotten the hypothetical cream.

_Oh man_. Cas really did mean ‘yes’ Dean thought, almost panicking for a moment. But then Cas paused so he could brush something from Dean’s shoulder. He took a moment with his head cocked to one side, seeing in him something that Dean had never seen no matter how hard he’d looked.

“You look wonderful, Dean.”


	4. Identity Shenanigans

This was not how a first date should end. 

The date itself had been great. In fact, the whole thing had been perfect. It had gone better than Dean had ever thought it could have gone in his wildest imaginings. And he'd be lying if he said he hadn't imagined it. Once or twice. 

A few times. 

_A lot._

Still. None of those fantasy dates with Cas had ended like this; with Dean's body half wedged in the doorway of their motel room arguing with the local sheriff and the kid from the reception desk. 

Dammit, why hadn't the sheriff just called his phone like a normal person? 

"Look," Dean said for at least the tenth time, biting his lip as he inwardly prayed for patience despite not being the praying kind. "I have a credit card in another name because I don't like to check in under my real name. Lotta Feds do it," he said casually as though his tone alone could convince them. 

They didn't look convinced but unless the sheriff was going to haul the 'federal agent' in front of him down to the station for questioning then this whole conversation was going to go nowhere. 

Seriously though, why hadn't the sheriff just called? Why had he decided to update Dean in person? Of course, the kid on the desk hadn't known where he could have found "Agent Philip Collins" but the '67 Impala the sheriff had pointed to belonged to Kris Warren in room 7.

The name that they had no doubt heard cried out in ecstasy from the bed in room 7 was neither Philip or Kris. 

"Well, anyway…" the sheriff mumbled, somehow even more mortified at the situation than Dean was, "I just wanted to drop this off. Thought it might help you with tracing old man Gregson…" 

He held out a standard manilla file and Dean had to grab the towel around his waist to stop it from falling as he took the file. His foot was still hooked around the door blocking the room behind him from their sight. 

The sheriff cleared his throat," Okay well… I'll be seeing you, Agent Collins. G'night." 

"Night," Dean mumbled, waiting until the two had at least turned around before he closed the door. And locked it. And bolted it. 

Cas was still lying on the bed beautifully and gloriously naked. 

"Don't say a damned word," Dean growled, slamming the file down on the nearest flat surface and dropping the towel as he climbed back into the bed, determined to finish what Cas had so eagerly started. 

Cas didn't say a word. 

He groaned a lot. Cried out a few times. And he positively yelled at one point. 

But he didn't say a word. 

Only a name that was neither Philip or Kris. 


	5. Alternate Universe

It had been Jody's fault. Jody and Dean just _knew_ Sam had had a hand in it. He'd been bugging Dean to take some time off ever since that werewolf threw him through a china cabinet. 

And the wall behind it. 

Into the basement below them.

But he was _fine_. Cas had fixed the worst of his leg and his back hardly hurt at all anymore. Sam had been trying to keep Dean from hunting for a while but he hadn't had much luck. 

Then Jody had called with the perfect solution that Sam and Cas had agreed Dean would be happy to accept before they ran it by him and give him the chance to refuse. Apparently there was a hunter's bar close to her and the landlord, some ex hunter Dean had vaguely heard of was heading out of town for a couple of weeks. 

Which was how Dean found himself tending a bar for hunters and warding the handful of rooms the guy rented in case of emergencies. His back still hurt from having to lug beer crates around the place but it sure as hell wasn't as bad as being thrown down several flights stairs by ghosts or getting punched up by demons. 

In fact… He liked it. 

He liked it a lot. 

It felt good to be behind a bar, chatting shit with the locals and keeping the place ticking over. Not just that though, he found himself offering advice to anyone who needed it and everyone was happy to listen to _Dean Winchester_. Hell, some of the customers drove by just so they could have a conversation with him and get his take on something. 

It was like hunting but without the hunting. He wasn't worried about the people who could be getting hurt while he was walking around with a bar towel slung over his shoulder in lieu of a shotgun because he was still helping. He was just helping in a way that didn't involve him needing to be sewn up by the broken light of a dingy motel bathroom. 

Plus Cas was with him. 

It was the life he'd never allowed himself to even imagine. A brief dream where he wasn't stalking the things that go bump in the night. Where he could wake up and be relatively certain that he'd live through the day. Where he and Cas could close the door to the outside world and lose themselves in each other as though there wasn't a worry left in the world to touch them. 

It was bliss. 

It was perfect. 

It lasted three weeks and four days. 

By which point Dean's back had stopped aching, his leg had long healed and he hadn't had a nightmare since the fourth night. But the guy came back, shook Dean's hand and handed him a wad of bills for his trouble. 

Dean tried not to show his disappointment. 

Not when he stepped out from behind the bar, not when Cas closed the door behind them and definitely not when Sam called to tell them he'd caught a case. 


	6. Discovery

Dean and Sam regarded each other quietly over the small table in the kitchen. They were eating breakfast or at least they would have been if either of them had actually started on their breakfast. They were too busy staring at each other. 

Something was going on and they both knew it. 

Neither one of them was as dumb as the other seemed to think they were. 

Besides, the bunker was small. Physically it might not be but with just the three of them living there full time it was pretty obvious when someone was trying to hide something. 

There were the furtive glances, the whispers in the library when they thought no one was looking and the doors weren’t exactly quiet. It was pretty obvious when someone was sneaking out of their room to head into someone else’s. 

Sam knew it. 

Dean knew it. 

But it didn’t look like Sam was going to bring it up and Dean certainly didn’t want to draw attention to it so they were trapped in this stare off during breakfast, broken only when Cas stepped into the kitchen with an armful of ingredients for whatever spell Rowena wanted to practice that morning. 

Dean scowled but only because he still wasn’t one hundred percent used to Rowena not trying to kill them at every opportunity and even less used to her actually helping them. 

She was a great help though Dean was loathe to admit it. 

He hadn’t admitted it to her though so he could keep up this standoffish thing he had going with her. He’d told Cas and it seemed to amuse him to see Dean snapping back at her with his vast array of comebacks knowing that actually Dean didn’t mind her all that much. 

“Is she ready?” Sam asked, gesturing to the ingredients in Cas’ arms. Cas picked up something out of the fridge and gross, was she really keeping her witchy shit in the fridge because no. _Hell no_. Dean kept his beer in there. 

Dean kept his pie in there. 

Gross. 

“I think so,” Cas said, only half paying attention as he double-checked whatever he was holding. 

“You uh...want me to take those to her?” Sam asked, as though he wanted nothing more than to be out of the room now that Cas was in there with them. He deliberately avoided Dean’s eye. 

“If you want,” Cas shrugged, transferring what he’d brought to Sam and watching him go. 

The two of them listened to Sam’s footsteps fade before Cas moved over to Dean and cupped his face so he could steal a kiss. 

“We should tell him,” Cas murmured, his finger still stroking Dean’s cheek. “He won’t mind.” 

Dean waved him off. “I know but he’s my brother and you’re…”  _ the love of my life _ he thought but he wasn’t going to say it. 

Cas didn’t push it and Dean liked to think it was because he knew how Dean felt about him. 

He hadn’t said it yet but...Cas knew... _right?_

“Well, let’s go see who she wants to turn into a frog today.”

Cas snorted. “It’s a locator spell, Dean.” 

“Whatever,” Dean muttered, taking Cas’ hand in his if only to let go of it when they left the kitchen.

They stepped into the library and-

“ _Oh_ ,” Cas muttered, “Dean, we should-”

“I knew it!” Dean shouted, alerting Sam and Rowena to his presence. Sam and Rowena who had been otherwise occupied with each other’s faces, pressed against one of the shelves. 

They broke apart and Sam was already stuttering his excuses. Rowena looked like she didn’t much care either way. 

But Dean had folded his arms in triumph. 

The furtive glances, the whispers, the doors creaking in the night. 

He knew he hadn’t been imagining things. 


	7. Underground

There were several advantages to living in the bunker and not just that it was the first regular place Dean had to lay his head since such stability had gone up in smoke. Along with the house. And his mother. 

They had their own kitchen and saved loads of money from not having to eat on the road all the time. It wasn't their money but still. 

Naturally, there were all the books and supplies the Men of Letters had gathered but there were other perks too. 

It was underground and so it was serviced by an air conditioning unit that must have been supernatural in nature given that it kept the place consistently cool but never cold. 

It was underground so they were guaranteed a level of privacy that was incredibly useful given their line of work. 

It was underground so on the rare occasions that Sam wasn't around it meant Dean and Cas could be as loud as they wanted and wouldnt disturb  _ anyone _ . 

Given that they had to be mighty quiet the rest of the time it was nice to not have to hide it. 

And Dean loved every noise he could wring from Castiel's sinful lips. 

That was nothing compared to Cas though. 

Cas could make Dean  _ sing _ . 

Sam had gone for a run and Dean knew that he was going to be so focused on beating his personal best that he wouldn't be back for a while. Dean knew this because he'd been making comments at the expense of Sam's speed for the last week. 

He'd specifically made those comments so him and Cas could have  _ this _ . 

_This_ being Dean throwing the pillows from the bed so there was no chance of his groans being muffled. 

_This_ being the sound of flesh slapping as Dean cried out a litany of, "C'mon, Cas. C'mon…" and Cas was _so_ happy to oblige. 

_This_ being Cas' fingers threading into Dean's hair, tugging it lightly so he could better reach Dean's ear to moan into it. 

Dean came untouched with Cas' cock in his ass, his hand in his hair and his name on his lips. Cas followed him just a moment after, his voice hoarse from calling Dean's name and the room shaking from what grace remained in him erupting into ecstasy with the rest of him. 

The aftermath was quiet. Hushed whispers and soft kisses exchanged in the silence. 

That was another advantage of living underground. There was nothing to disturb them as they came down from their high, curled around each other, conveying every ounce of their feelings without making a sound. 

  
  



	8. Elevator

There were times when Dean Winchester’s life seemed like something out of an action movie. Those were the days when he ganked a monster and knew he looked damn fine doing it. Almost every day was something out of a horror movie, naturally. And there were times like this where he wondered if he’d stepped into an overly trope-filled sitcom and couldn’t help but wonder if Gabriel had somehow trapped him in a television...again. 

Dean laughed and beside him, Cas looked over with a concern that suggested he was afraid Dean had lost his mind. It had only been ten minutes, he was fine. 

Apart from the obvious issue of being trapped in an elevator. 

They’d come to the records office for a case and they should have taken the stairs. 

At least he was with Cas and  _ only _ Cas. They’d already had to flash their fake badges just to get access to the records without the "proper paperwork". It would have been a new level of tedium to have to make small talk with an officious civil servant who might have asked questions about the records they were after. He hadn’t figured out a cover story for why the FBI would need to look at such old maps of the area. It wasn’t as though he could turn around and say, ‘ _ So, yeah, we’re hunting a ghost. _ ’ 

“Sit tight gentlemen,” a voice crackled through the panel. “We should be able to bring you back down in a few.” 

A few  _ what _ he didn’t specify but the minutes passed and nothing happened. 

Cas was the first to drop to the floor. He shucked off the trench coat and folded it into a makeshift cushion to lean against before he held his arm for Dean to tuck into. Which of course Dean did. 

Willingly. 

Enthusiastically.

He even returned Cas’ kisses but that’s as far as he went. 

“I’m not having sex with you in here,” Dean said almost with a sigh, leaning back against the wall. 

Cas’ hand froze around him. “Um...Alright…?”

“I’m just saying. I’ve seen how this ends. We get carried away and they open the doors to find your dick in my mouth.”

Cas laughed and Dean smiled at the sound. It wasn’t a sound he heard often. 

“I’ll attempt to restrain myself despite our arousing surroundings,” Cas said dryly. “Though I don’t think they’d open the doors and find you with my dick in your mouth.” 

Dean glanced over at him, looking for the punchline and regretted it when Cas leaned in, his breath ghosting against Dean’s lips. 

“It’s far more likely it would be your dick in my mouth,” he whispered and damn if that didn’t push Dean’s restraint to the absolute limit. 

Of course, he was so focused on Cas’ lips so close to his, his eyes burning in intensity that he hadn’t noticed the elevator moving again. The doors opened while Dean was still dumbstruck, his gaze entirely on Cas’ lips just a breath from his own. 

The ‘sorry to keep you waiting gentlemen,’ followed by an embarrassed cough was bad enough but that was nothing compared to the mortified look on Sam’s face as he stood in the lobby. 

He’d obviously gotten the text about the elevator trouble. 

He was obviously regretting swinging by to see if he could help. 


	9. Closet

_"Dean!"_ Sam and Cas shouted in unison and Dean knew instantly that the ghost was behind him. There were several instinctive reactions: he swivelled on his heel, he raised the sawed-off filled with salt rounds and he was already rolling his eyes knowing that he was about to go flying across the room. 

It was just a ghost but this one packed a punch and liked to punch. Dean let off a blast of rock salt but his aim was thrown off as the ghost lifted him from the ground and threw him, as expected, across the room. 

It took him a moment to recover and only a moment longer for Dean to realise that he'd been thrown into a closet. 

_"Oh, come on!"_ he snarled as the ghost swiped a hand and the doors shut tight behind him. 

"Dean?!" Sam yelled. There were a series of slams against the door which must have been Sam trying to break through but the door didn't yield. No doubt held together by some weird ghost-DIY. That was probably a thing. 

"It's okay, Dean!" Sam called again from just the other side, "You're gonna be okay."

Dean was locked in a closet while his brother tried to reassure him from the other side. Dean scoffed despite himself. If that wasn't a weird metaphor for his life. 

He tried to get out but the doors would not budge. He hammered at them, kicked them, tried chipping at them with the sawed-off but they didn't even tremble. 

Meanwhile, on the other side, he could hear Cas and Sam trying to blast the ghost away. Or at least Cas trying to blast it, from the shouts it was clear Sam was looking for the remains. 

Dean didn't stop trying to get out even though he knew the doors weren't going to let up until the ghost was a goner. He wasn't claustrophobic or anything, his father had thrown him into smaller spaces than this, but he wasn't going to give up when he could hear Sam and Cas fighting. 

He could pinpoint the moment the ghost went up in flames and not just from the way the doors suddenly trembled when he slammed them. The scream was a dead giveaway. 

He still couldn't get out though, something was blocking the doors from the other side. 

"Just a second, Dean," Cas called from just beyond. Then there was the sound of scraping and crashing as he tossed aside whatever debris had kept Dean in there. 

Then the doors were open and Cas was there, pulling Dean out and into his arms. Dean drew back a little but Cas checked him over regardless, taking in every inch of him to make sure he was okay. 

Beside them, Sam cleared his throat awkwardly, his eyebrows practically part of his hairline. After all, it was just a closet. Dean was fine. But Cas still held him a little closer, cupping his face to make sure Dean wasn't hurt. 

His fingers were soft and gentle on Dean's skin but Sam didn't need to know that.


	10. Coming Out

Dean heaved the shopping down the stairs and regretted that he hadn’t accepted Cas’ offer of help on what was just a standard supply run. He managed to get to the bottom of the stairs without dropping the beer which was the important thing but his stomach instinctively clenched when he looked up and saw that Sam was waiting for him at the war room’s table.

He didn’t look happy. 

“You okay?” 

But Sam’s jaw was set and he looked as though he’d been steeling himself for the conversation they were about to have. 

“We need to talk,” Sam said in his firmest ‘ _we’ve got problems_ ’ voice. 

Dean glanced at the shopping at his feet but it didn’t look like Sam was going to let him put the beer in the fridge quite yet. 

“Okay…” Dean leaned against the stairs. “What’s up?”

“You and Cas,” Sam said and Dean put on his best poker face even though he was fairly sure he was having a heart attack. 

“Me...and Cas?” 

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re _really_ going to pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about?” 

Dean’s throat was dry but Sam took the delay as avoidance and continued over anything he might have said anyway. 

“All the sneaking around? The whispering in the corners when you think I’m not looking? I’m not stupid, Dean. I know what you’re up to.”

Dean took a breath.

Okay. So Sam knew. This was happening.

 _Okay._ This was okay. Cas had always said Sam would be supportive and-

“ _I can’t believe you!_ ” Sam hissed, “I can’t believe you’d do this! Let me guess, you were going to tell me later when it was too late to go back and expect me to just be okay with it?”

Dean could feel the blood drain away from him and his fingers gripped the railing beside the stairs so tightly he doubted the colour would ever return to his knuckles. 

“I thought you guys would know better by now. Don’t you know every time you do something like this it blows up in your face?” 

Dean’s heart had gone from pounding out of his chest to hardly beating at all. The breath he’d taken had been knocked out of him and was showing no sign of returning. Sam’s words settled into his soul with a chill.

Sam was speaking but all Dean could hear was their dad. 

_‘It’s wrong.’_

_‘I didn’t raise you to be this way…’_

_‘No son of mine-’_

Dean’s head was spinning. Cas had been wrong. Everything about this was wrong. 

“ _Dean!_ ” 

“Yeah,” Dean’s voice sounded raspier than when he’d climbed out of his own coffin and had to spit out lungfuls of grave dirt. He felt as awful as he had that day too. The day Cas had forced his soul back into his broken body. 

Dean felt broken now. 

This is why he didn’t want to say anything. This is why he’d hidden it. But even then he’d never thought Sam… 

...not Sam.

Sam sighed and he scrubbed a hand over his face. “Look...I get it. I want Mom and Jack back too but this isn’t how we do it, Dean.” 

Dean’s thoughts stuttered as the record of his mind skipped a track. 

_Mom...Jack?_

“What was the plan anyway?” Sam asked. 

“The...plan?” Dean asked, his brain trying to catch up with the turn of the conversation. 

“Yeah. Whatever it was you and Cas were working on to get Mom and Jack back. What was it?”

Wheels turned and Dean stared at Sam as he replayed the conversation in his head. 

Oh.

_Oh._

“We’re not working on a plan…” Dean managed to say, his fingers were starting to go numb where they gripped the railing. “What...There...There was no plan. We’ve got nothing. We weren’t working on anything.” 

Sam folded his arms and frowned. 

“We-” Dean tripped over the words. Sam might still mean what he said even if he hadn’t known what he was talking about. “We...me and Cas...we’re...y’know…?”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. It was clear he did not ‘ _y’know_ ’.

“We’re a _thing_ , Sammy. Like you and Rowena. Together and all that...”

Even though Dean had laid it out for him it took Sam a few minutes to grasp the concept. Dean could see the exact moment that he did. 

“Dean...but...but that’s-” 

Dean braced himself for it though he already knew there would be nothing he could do to guard against the hurt that was coming. 

“ _That’s great!_ ” Sam grinned. “ _Finally!_ So what, he’s like your boyfriend now or-” he suddenly paled. “Oh God and I said...Dean you know I’m happy for you, right? I thought you guys were going to go to Apocalypse world without me or something, this...this is brilliant!” 

Warmth spread through every part of Dean even though he tried to stop it. He really shouldn’t let his guard down but Sam was already crossing the room to hug him. He didn’t want to set himself up for a fall but he couldn’t help it. Dean leaned into his brother’s arm and let him hold him.

Just for a minute. 

Wait... _finally?!_

“Okay, okay, get off me,” Dean grumbled, trying to sound annoyed when really he couldn’t help but be happy. “Bitch.” 

"Jerk." Sam let him go but he looked at Dean almost expectantly so Dean figured that he might as well get it over with. “So yeah...I’m with Cas and...y’know...not straight.”

Sam looked so proud of him it was almost embarrassing. “I’m happy for you, really. For Cas too.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m gonna get this beer in the fridge.” 

Dean wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t grinning so hard his cheeks hurt. Nope. Wasn’t happening.

He picked up the shopping again and headed for the kitchen but Sam called after him. 

“Hey, Dean? It’s okay. You know that right?” Dean frowned, not entirely sure what he was getting at. Sam sighed. “I mean...it’s fine. Dad was wrong and if Cas makes you happy...well...there’s nothing wrong with who you are is what I mean.” 

Dean scoffed and he wasn’t smiling anymore. Still, as he headed for the kitchen he still felt the warmth of his brother’s arms around him.


	11. The Movies

Sam was looking suspiciously pleased with himself and Dean didn’t like it. 

It was his turn to pick the movies for movie night and that really shouldn’t have left him looking as smug as it did. Most of the time he used his nights as an excuse to put on any one of those films that he was always going on about that Dean would never have watched and would certainly never admit to enjoying. He didn’t ever look smug about it though. 

There was no point dwelling on it though, one way or another they were going to watch whatever Sam had picked. Dean and Cas pulled the couches around the screen that Sam had set up. Rowena and Sam were in charge of snacks so Dean made sure to make sure he had extra beer to hand and snacks that he’d actually eat. 

Cas brought out some blankets strictly for Dean who would inevitably call Sam a loser for going to bed before him before falling asleep himself before the opening credits of his ‘I’m definitely going to stay up longer’ film rolled. 

Rowena and Sam came back with snacks or at least their equivalent of them. There was far too much green for Dean’s liking but he’d brought his own popcorn so he was happy. 

He dropped into the couch, stretching out as he usually did. Rowena and Sam took the other couch and Cas would inevitably take the single-seater. Except he didn’t. This time Cas lay down beside Dean, resting his head against Dean’s chest. 

For a moment Dean froze but Cas just rolled his eyes and made himself comfortable, even if it meant rearranging Dean himself so that Cas could tuck himself under his arm and wrap an arm around his waist. Dean’s heart usually started pounding when Cas touched him but not from such an innocent display of affection. He cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Sam. 

Sam looked up at the sound, saw Dean and Cas lying together, frowned and said, “Hey, Cas, here…” he moved one of the side tables to rest beside the arm of the couch and put Cas’ beer on it. “Can you still see?” he asked, trying to judge if he’d blocked Dean and Cas’ view with the bottle and when he was satisfied he hadn’t made for the movies. 

Dean breathed out and Cas squeezed his arm supportively. It was going to be a while before Dean could accept that this would be as easy as it seemed to be. 

“So, what are we watching?” Dean asked his voice a lot more level than he’d expected. 

Sam grinned that shit-eating grin of his and held up a selection of the movies he’d chosen. Dean read the titles but only recognised one of them. He took a moment, turned them over in his mind and read what he could from the cover art alone. 

“Sam...these...these all…”

“Feature LGBTQ relationships as their central focus? Yes, yes they do. Happy coming out, Dean,” Sam cheered and Rowena jumped forward with a pie. A pie with a candle in it. 

Cas was laughing and Dean was determined not to join him. 

This wasn’t funny. 

This was ridiculous. 

“Blow out your candle, Dean!” Rowena trilled. 

“You’re all idiots,” Dean huffed but he blew out the candle anyway. “What?!” he demanded when Sam started applauding him. “It’s pie. Now pass me that blanket, it’s getting cold.” 

Mercifully, Sam and Rowena didn’t say anything more as Sam set the first film rolling and Dean settled down, his heart still pounding unnaturally loud against his chest. 

Cas sensed his momentary panic or more accurately he probably felt his momentary panic and pulled the blanket up around them, drawing circles against Dean’s chest through his shirt. Dean smiled at him. 

He was alright. He was fine. 

He really was.

He might actually have even enjoyed the film. 

It wasn't Dean's fault that Cas' strokes against his chest lengthened. It wasn't his fault Cas used the blanket to hide him slipping his hand under Dean's shirt so he could feel Dean's skin under his shirt. It certainly wasn't his fault that the sound of Cas breathing just beside his ear and the warmth of his breath against Dean's jaw was way more interesting than anything that might have been going on on-screen. 

And then Cas, who had clearly realised that Dean's attention _was not_ on the trials of herding sheep through the Wyoming mountains while Rowena and Sam's clearly _was_ , slipped his hand lower. And lower. And lower...

Dean bit his lip, the movie quite forgotten as he canted his hips gently into Cas' hand. He tried to keep his breathing level, as though Cas wasn't taking him apart beneath the blanket, as though his blood wasn't scorching him from the inside out. He might have been able to come quietly too but then Cas nipped at Dean's jaw, grazing his teeth lightly over the five o'clock shadow and Dean moaned before he realised he'd done it. 

It wasn't loud but...it was loud enough.

Dean froze, the afterglow quite forgotten. 

Sam froze too.

Rowena laughed.

Cas smirked and wiped his hand under the blanket. 

For a moment nobody spoke. Nobody moved. 

Except Jack and Ennis on-screen who rocked together with moans that were somehow less lewd than what Dean had uttered a moment ago. 

After a long and tense silence, Rowena giggled again and slapped Sam on the arm. 

"I told you it was risky to start with the bisexual cowboys."


	12. Fairytale

Dean was fast asleep. 

He didn’t remember going to bed and he wasn’t dreaming but he was definitely asleep. 

There were voices that probably belonged to Sam and Cas but he was too comfortable to pay them any attention. He settled back into the void and enjoyed the peace that came with it. 

At least until he felt Cas’ lips on his. 

Dean hummed with satisfaction and let his lips part, teasing Cas’ tongue into his mouth with his own. He didn’t need to open his eyes to trace his hands up into Cas’ hair and grip it so he could tug it and let his lips rove over Cas’ neck instead. 

He heard Cas gasp beside him and Dean couldn’t help but smile. This was after all his favourite way to wake up. 

He knew his way around Cas’ body by touch alone and he wasn’t surprised when his hands brushed against a familiar trench coat. It wasn’t unusual for Cas to come and wake Dean up already fully dressed. 

It wasn’t unusual for Dean to remedy that particular encumbrance before he’d properly woken either. 

“Dean,” Cas breathed beside his ear, “Dean, you- _ oh… _ ”

Dean’s hands found their way onto Cas’ ass and pulled him effortlessly across his lap, rocking his morning wood against Cas’ rapidly hardening bulge. 

“Dean-” Cas started but Dean swallowed whatever he might have said with a searing kiss. 

After that, Cas stopped trying to talk. Anything he wanted to say was instead a breathy moan as he rocked their hips together. Dean popped the button on Cas’ suit pants and pulled down the zipper with a well practised, one-handed motion. He slipped his fingers past the pants, through Cas’ underwear and took him in hand, relishing the sounds that dropped from Cas’ lips into Dean’s own. 

“ _ Dean...Dean, _ ” Cas rasped but he wasn’t trying to get Dean’s attention anymore, he was coming apart beautifully under Dean’s expert motions. He knew exactly how Cas liked it though Cas had once said it didn’t matter _how_ Dean pleasured him, that it was Dean was enough. 

Still, Dean took pride in his work. 

He let his lips wander to the place on Cas’ neck that he knew would have Cas make that-  _ yes, that _ , sound and Dean smiled against his skin. He lapped at Cas’ throat, allowing his teeth to graze the skin lightly revelling every whimper Cas made. 

Cas’ hands fumbled at Dean’s own belt but then he was free and Cas dropped his hips, rutting them together with short, stuttering cries. Dean couldn’t even pretend to be even a little asleep and his eyes flew open, taking in Cas, flushed and straddling him, riding them together with his breath coming in sharp gasps beside Dean’s cheek. 

The sight and the friction, the glorious friction was enough to have Dean coming in record time and his strangled cry into Cas’ mouth had Cas follow him over the edge just a moment later. He crashed down into Dean’s satisfied arms and Dean held him there as he trembled through the afterglow. 

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean murmured into Cas’ hair as he kissed him wherever he could reach before he settled against the pillows and stared up at the nondescript motel room ceiling. 

“Dean,” Cas sighed. He looked up at Dean but rolled his eyes when he saw the smug satisfaction on Dean’s face. “ _ Dean _ ,” he said again and this time it sounded like he was trying to sound irate but couldn’t possibly despite the mess they’d both made of each other. 

The door to the room swung open but Dean was too blissed out to try and cover himself. Besides, Cas was covering the worst of it. 

“Cas, I-” Sam started before he came to a dead stop. He looked from Cas to his brother who shot him a friendly smile and a mock salute.

“Morning, Sammy,” Dean called happily. 

He expected Sam to be as annoyed as he usually was when he interrupted something, but then this _was_ Dean and Cas' motel room. And Sam had just walked in so as far as Dean was concerned it was fair game. 

But Sam seemed relieved. “Dean! You’re awake! That’s great!”  Dean frowned which Sam caught immediately. “You...don’t remember?” 

Casting his mind back, Dean came up blank. 

Remember what? They were hunting a witch and...and come to think of it hadn’t they caught up to her?...and then... _ oh _ …

He remembered a curse. He remembered it hitting him. 

And then there’d been...sleep.

_ Oh _ …

Dean flushed a little but couldn’t have stopped smiling if he’d wanted to. Not bathed in such a warm glow with Cas pressed against his chest. 

“Yeah, well...I’m okay, Sam. But...you might wanna get out of here, give us some time to clean up?” He waggled his eyebrows for no other reason than he knew it would piss his brother off. 

At that point, Sam looked at them again and seemed to click with what had happened.

“Cas!” he snapped. “I said kiss him, not... _ seriously?! _ ”

“We got carried away,” Cas mumbled, lazily. 

“You two are ridiculous,” Sam muttered, “I’ll be in my room.” 

He closed the door a little louder than he needed to behind him which made Dean laugh. 

“I am glad you’re okay, Dean,” Cas said, leaning up to kiss Dean a little softer than he had so far. 

“So what...I got cursed and you woke me up with a kiss and all that?”

“True love's kiss, yes,” Cas murmured like it was no big deal and Dean’s heart hadn’t stopped beating in his chest. 

Silence surrounded them for a moment before Cas nuzzled his forehead against Dean’s. 

“I do, you know. Love you, that is,” he whispered and that was that. Dean was never going to breathe again. “You don’t have to say it back,” Cas added, almost thoughtfully, as though he hadn’t reshaped Dean’s entire world. “I just thought you should know.” 

Dean opened his mouth to say it but the words died somewhere in his throat. Cas just snuggled into him harder though with a satisfied sigh. Dean closed his mouth. 

He didn’t have to say it. 

Not yet. 


	13. Graveyard Shift

The hunt had been a fairly simple one. 

“I think we’re dealing with a ghoul,” Sam had said and lo and behold it was, in fact, a ghoul. 

It hadn’t been difficult to track at least until they got to the cemetery and discovered that it was operating out of a series of tunnels it had dug between the graves and mausoleums. They hadn’t been able to find where it was surfacing and after two trips Dean had decided that he was done looking and they were going to dig their way into one of the tunnels. 

Crawling in the spaces between graves was enough to make anyone claustrophobic even Dean who’d been buried alive more times than he could count but he tried not to focus on that and instead concentrated on the air that he could breathe even though it was hot and dirty. He kept his eyes on the light from his flashlight and not the oppressive darkness that couldn’t help but feel heavy given the weight of the ground above him. On the plus side, the ghoul was a bit bigger than Dean so it wasn’t a tight squeeze. 

Small mercies. 

Dean found the ghoul in a mausoleum. It was hunched over another coffin which was clearly too old for the body inside it. Clearly, it had fancied a snack. It worked to Dean’s advantage; it never even heard him coming. It was too busy chowing down to look up and the first thing it knew of Dean Winchester’s presence was the swift and fleeting pain in its neck a split second before its head rolled deep into the tomb. 

“Huh,” Dean sounded somewhere between pleased with himself and surprised. “That was easy.” 

As though hearing him, the now headless ghoul slid from the coffin and crumpled to the floor, spraying Dean with blood, ooze and general _Eau de Ghoul_. 

Dean rolled his eyes and wiped the worst of it from his face, trying not to gag at the taste of it all on the air.  _ “Gross.” _

Naturally, being a Winchester, that was where Dean’s luck ran out. 

He tried to jimmy the lock on the mausoleum’s gate but no dice. It wouldn’t budge. It wasn’t just stuck, it was immovable having apparently not been opened for at least a few decades. He could at least get phone signal so he could tell Cas and Sam where he was. Not that that mattered as they couldn’t even get through the door to even get to the gate that trapped Dean. Apparently, the place was structurally unsound and the resulting repair work meant it was entirely inaccessible which, Dean begrudgingly admitted, meant hunters would have a hard time tracking the ghoul into it. 

“I’m gonna have to come out the way I came in, aren’t I?” Dean sighed into his phone and the hesitation on Sam’s end told him everything he needed to know about that. “Alright...let’s do this.”

So back he went. 

Crawling through the heavy heat trapped under the soil except this time Dean had the stench of ghoul guts to keep him company. He tried not to think about the weight of the world above him and focused on getting out. 

Sam and Cas were waiting beside the hole they’d made and both reached down to hoist Dean out even though either one of them could have managed it on their own. Dean let them take his weight and rolled onto the grass, spitting out the inevitable lungfuls of grave dirt he’d inhaled. 

The pre-dawn air was chilled by comparison to the warmth trapped in the ground and Dean lay back, breathing it in deeply until he was ready to get up, grateful that Sam and Cas had given him space instead of crowding him. 

He was fine. He was just exhausted and filthy. 

Absolutely filthy. 

“You okay, Dean?” Sam called, nudging one of Dean’s feet with one of his own. 

Dean grunted something that sounded like it could pass for the affirmative. Then Cas was beside him to help him to his feet and to brace him as soon as he was vertical. 

“Uch, Cas, no,” Dean muttered as Cas moved into his space. Cas stopped immediately though his eyes took in every inch of Dean to make sure there was no injury that had escaped his notice. 

“I’m fine,” Dean reassured him, “I’m just... _ gross _ .”

Cas cocked his head in confusion and Dean gestured to himself with hands that looked like they’d need way more than the motel’s lacklustre shower to get clean again. 

Against his advice, Cas reached for him anyway and let Dean lean on him, taking the brunt of his weight. Dean opened his mouth to protest but Cas cut him off. 

“There is nothing gross about you, Dean Winchester.” 


	14. Coffee Shop

Dean looked down at the paper in his hand and rolled his eyes. 

“What the hell even is this? Why can’t Sam order a coffee like a normal human?” 

Cas was reading the menu above the counter even though Dean already knew he was going to order black coffee and add several sugars to it. The simplicity of the molecules appealed to his overly complicated, angelic tastebuds. 

“What can I get you?” the peppy girl behind the counter asked. 

Cas smiled back at her, “two large, black coffees and one…” Cas looked at Dean expectantly.

Dean groaned and read off the paper, “one sencha tea with goji berries and pomegranate seeds.” 

The girl punched it into the till. “Is that with or without lemongrass?”

Dean was never doing this again. “...With.” 

“Okay, thanks,” she beamed. 

Cas and Dean moved to the end of the counter and waited. Cas threaded his fingers into Dean’s and squeezed his hand as he leaned in to kiss his cheek. 

Dean felt his face flush and he jerked away, taking his hand back quickly. 

“Dean? Are you alright?” 

Dean looked around them but nobody had noticed. Why would they? But still, he shifted away from Cas. 

“Dean?” Cas called.

“I’m fine,” Dean muttered. “Just...not here...alright?”

Cas looked confused. “What’s not here?” 

“The kissing and stuff...not here.” 

From the look on his face, Cas still didn’t understand but Dean didn’t want to explain it to him. 

“Humans hold hands and kiss in public all the time. You yourself have kissed many of your partners in the company of others.” 

The heat in Dean’s cheeks rose and he was fairly sure he’d never been so red. 

“Yeah...I know...just...if anyone sees us they’ll think we’re just two dudes...and no one wants to see that...y’know.” 

Cas did not ‘ _y’know_ ’ and he looked so lost Dean felt awful for even bringing it up. 

“Alright,” he sighed but he didn’t look happy. In fact, he couldn’t look at Dean at all. 

Dean wanted to hug him. Dean wanted to kiss that look away but not here. Not where people might see. So he shoved his hands into his pockets only to take them out again a moment later when the barista called their order. 

“Oh hey, I forgot about the lemongrass, thanks!” Sam smiled when they returned to their table. He looked between Dean and Cas. “Uh...you guys okay?” 

“Fine,” Dean muttered, sipping his coffee. “What you got?”

Sam hesitated for a moment but Dean wasn’t about to answer and Cas’ eyes seemed fixed on a spot on the floor. He waited a moment longer before he launched into the details of the case.

“So get this…”

They figured out the details of the case, decided who was going to question who the following day and still Cas hadn’t said a word to Dean. Not even when they pulled into the motel’s lot, he just slammed Baby’s door behind him and headed for the office to book them in. 

Dean watched him go and all but collapsed his face into the steering wheel. They were going to have to talk about this. 

“So...uh...you wanna talk about it?” Sam asked from the passenger seat.

“No,” Dean snapped. He got out of the car before Sam could ask anything else and leaned against Baby’s hood, waiting for Cas. 

Sam followed but mercifully didn’t say anything. 

Cas came back and thrust a single set of keys into Dean’s hand. “Room seven,” he rasped. “Two queens. Don’t worry, I made sure to tell them you were brothers.” 

Dean wanted to scream and he reached for Cas. “Cas, no, it’s not-” but Cas was already walking off even though there was nowhere for him to go. 

Dean curled his fingers around the keys until they were cutting into his hand from the pressure of it. He rubbed his temples and sighed. He’d known this was going to happen. Hadn’t he always known? He didn’t deserve Cas. He’d never deserve Cas and now he was pushing him away because of the hangups John Winchester had smacked into him. 

Sam’s hand was warm on his shoulder. “Dean? You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

Dean couldn’t look his brother in the eye. 

“I’ve messed up, Sam.” 

_ I’m messed up, Sam.  _

“I dunno how to fix it. And if I do I’m pretty sure I’ll mess up again.” 

The hand on his shoulder squeezed him reassuringly. “Cas loves you, man.” Sam offered. “He’s seen you through worse than whatever you said to piss him off while waiting in line for coffee.” 

When Sam put it like that it did sound ridiculous. But Dean’s eyes fell on Cas’ retreating back and somehow wasn’t reassured. 


	15. Sleepover

Dean found Cas sitting in Baby's backseat. 

Not that he'd been hiding. They'd known where he was and they hadn't had to track his phone to find him. Sam had patted Dean on the shoulder and whispered, " _you got this_ ," in support but sliding into the seat beside Cas, Dean wasn't so sure. 

"Cas," Dean sighed. "Look, I know you're angry…"

"I'm not angry," Cas interrupted. "I'm upset."

Dean hesitated. He'd had part of a speech prepared but it had been based on Cas being justifiably angry...he hadn't thought that Cas was upset. 

"I know you feel strongly for me. I told you I love you and I do, more than you could ever know and I understand that expressing feelings is difficult for you but…" he trailed off sounding much smaller than an angel of the Lord had any right to. "... I didn't think you'd be ashamed to be seen with me."

Dean recoiled as though Cas had struck him. 

" _No!_ Cas! That's… That's not what I…" 

He took Cas' hand. Cas didn't pull away, looking earnestly at Dean, willing him to explain. 

Dean took a deep breath. He could do this. He wasn't going to lose Cas because of his stupid hangups. 

"Look… People can be jerks and sometimes when they see two guys together… Well...they stare or they might make fun of it or it could turn nasty-" 

"I'm aware of homophobia and its implications," Cas sighed and Dean hated how tired he sounded. "You don't have to shield me from it, you-" 

He saw Dean wince and broke off. Behind his eyes, Dean could see the pieces falling into place. 

_"Oh,"_ he sighed with a great deal more finality than Dean would have liked. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"Wait...what? Why are  _ you _ apologising? I pushed you away, I made you feel like crap. You don't need to apologise to me." 

"I do," Cas insisted. "When I pulled you from Hell I pieced you back together. It's how I know what actions you find particularly pleasurable-" 

Dean flushed bright red. They were having a serious conversation about serious things, he was not getting hard from Cas' voice alone. 

Not right now. 

Not happening. 

It totally was but he could pretend. 

"-but it wasn't just your physical self I restored. There were your memories too. I saw everything even the things that you might have forgotten. I saw the things that made you who you are and it just made me love you more. But, I hadn't considered their impact on _you._ "

Dean flinched but Cas' hand gripped him tight. This was nothing new but right now he felt as exposed as he had the first time Cas had told him what had been done to him to bring him back from Hell. 

"You're the bravest man I know, sometimes I forget that you have such human concerns."

It wasn't an insult but Dean felt awful for it anyway. It was ridiculous after all. Dean could take down vampire nests, werewolf dens and whatever else needed ganking but he was afraid to hold Cas' hand in public. 

And why? 

It wasn't as though John Winchester was going to come back from the dead and give him hell. 

If John Winchester came back from the dead there'd probably be more to worry about than whose hand Dean was holding. 

Dean vaguely wondered if he'd mind more that Cas' vessel was male or that Cas was an angel. 

It was an intriguing and ultimately pointless thought experiment. 

Cas sighed again. "I will try to be more patient, Dean."

"No, Cas. I shouldn't be worried about what some jackass I'm never going to see again thinks about us. You know I…" he broke off. Why was talking about this stuff so hard? "You know how important you are to me, yeah? Don't ever think I'm ashamed of you, just… Gimme some time."

Cas nodded and brought their clasped hands to his lips so he could kiss Dean's knuckles. Dean felt the weight of the argument leave him and breathed a deep sigh of relief. 

"I am sorry, Cas."

"Thank you," Cas whispered. 

"So… You wanna get a room?" Dean asked, waggling his eyebrows obnoxiously in a swift attempt to get them off the subject of "feelings" and back onto safer ground. 

Dean's heart lurched when Cas frowned. 

"Oh no, I don't think that'll be possible."

Dean felt his stomach turn inside out and he tried to take his hand back. 

"Okay, Cas. I get it." 

"No, Dean… I mean they only had two queens left." Cas flushed a little, "I may have forgotten to mention that in my attempt at being dramatic." 

Dean couldn't help but laugh and with it went the last of the tension between them. 

"I can always stay here with you," Dean said with a smile, leaning in to kiss Cas' cheek. He settled against him and got comfortable beside him. 

"Dean, we could always just go back to the room. I don't require sleep and Sam won't mind us being there assuming we don't copulate."

"I love it when you talk dirty, angel," Dean grinned. "But this isn't my first sleepover in Baby. Besides… " he hesitated but this was okay. It was okay for him to say what he was thinking, what he was feeling. "... I like being close to you." 

It was a small thing. Hardly anything. It wasn't even close to the poetry that Cas deserved but he could see what it meant to him to hear it. 

"I'll watch over you, Dean. Wherever you lay your head."


	16. Amusement Park

Cas was patient. It came with being an angel and having witnessed thousands of years of human history and everything that had come before. He would have been happy to carry on as Dean’s ‘buddy’ until Dean was ready to admit that maybe there was something to the longing glances and soulful looks. It’s why, once Dean had told him that Dean’s reluctance to show him off in public had nothing to do with Cas being Cas, Cas was happy to wait for Dean to take things at his own pace. 

Dean, on the other hand, was not patient. He was human, he was mortal and dammit he loved Cas, even if he couldn’t quite say it yet for reasons that escaped even him. He’d fought demons, monsters and gods, he could hold his boyfriend’s hand in public. It wasn’t even as though Cas wanted to go full PDA and have them arrested for public indecency. The guy wanted to be able to kiss Dean on the cheek without thinking about it and Dean was determined that he should be able to. 

For both their sakes. 

John Winchester was dead. And in life, he’d been dead wrong. 

There was nothing wrong with Dean.

Now if the rest of Dean could accept the statement as easily as he could think it then everything would be just peachy. 

Sam had suggested therapy and Dean had almost ended him there and then. What the hell was the point in him pushing himself to open up if his stupid brother made stupid suggestions like that? 

Rowena had suggested a spell. 

Dean was surrounded by idiots. 

But ever a man of action there was only really one course Dean would be happy with. 

Cas had said nothing, naturally. He'd not brought the 'coffee shop incident' (as it would forever be known in Dean's mind) in the weeks following it. He didn't refer to it, allude to it, nothing. If it wasn't for the fact that Dean knew Cas remembered everything he'd assume he'd forgotten it altogether. 

Dean chose his moment with care. 

He even researched it. The last thing he wanted was to be interrupted by a hunt. 

When he was ready, he told Cas they were going on a quick salt and burn. Nothing too crazy. He booked them into a motel, a nice one too. Cas might not notice but Dean hoped the thought might count. 

They parked up and Dean even ran around to open the door for Cas before he could get out himself. 

Cas looked at him fondly but his smile faded when he saw where they were. “Dean...I don’t think we’re in the right place.”

“Sure we are, sunshine,” Dean grinned. 

Cas looked up, the neon lights of the signs reflected in his eyes. “Dean, this isn’t a cemetery.” 

“Nope. It’s a date.”

“A date?” Cas looked adorable when he was unsure. 

“Our second date,” Dean corrected them both and Cas looked even more confused. But it was true. There’d been nights in at the bunker, there’d been drinks and dinners on the road, Dean would like to have said they’d done everything they possibly could to each other physically but Cas kept proving them wrong on that count. 

They’d never really been on a date though. Never a planned: _‘Cas, I’m going to take you out and we’re going to do things as a couple’_ date. Not since their first and even that had just been drinks but with flowers and hand holding. Dean had never thought about it before; it wasn’t as if they were doing things the usual human way. But from the way Cas’ eyes lit up and not just from the blazing lights in the dark, Dean knew he’d been right in thinking it’d be something he’d enjoy. 

“What is it?” Cas asked even though he was perfectly capable of reading the sign. Dean couldn’t remember when he’d looked so happy and he’d seen Cas look plenty happy recently.

“It’s a theme park. I figured it’d be a good place for a date,” Dean mumbled, starting to second-guess himself for no other reason than he felt like he couldn’t have nice things and Cas was the nicest of all nice things. 

As though sensing Dean’s hesitation, Cas put a hand on his shoulder. He could have kissed him or held his hand or embraced him. But he put his hand on his shoulder; a gesture that might have been between friends. 

It made Dean more determined than ever to do this. 

“Tell me,” Cas smiled. 

“Well…” Dean took a breath. “We’re gonna go in there and I’m going to pay because I’m taking _you_ out. We’re going to go in and eat hot dogs and candy floss because it kinda goes with the territory. We’re gonna ride some rollercoasters and look ridiculous in the photos they take and we’re gonna buy them even though they’re always overpriced. We’ll ride the log flume and get soaked but we won’t care because it’ll be fun. We’ll head for the stalls and I’ll pretend that I’ve never shot a gun in my life before while I figure out which way it’s rigged so I can win you the most ridiculous stuffed toy you’ve ever seen. Then we’re going to head back to the motel and the toy’s gonna be too big to hold in the bed and you’ll insist on giving it a dumb name but I won’t care because you’ll be happy. Then we’ll have to turn it to face the wall when you start showing me your appreciation for such a great night ‘coz you won’t want to scar it and it’ll be weird to do stuff with it watching.” 

If Cas’ smile grew any brighter Dean would surely go blind. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Cas said. “I don’t need you to hold my hand to know how you feel for me.” 

“No,” Dean offered, his stomach already in knots at the prospect even though he knew it was fine. They were fine. There was nothing wrong with Dean. “But...I want to. Not just for you,” he admitted, feeling his cheeks flush a little. 

He held out his hand and Cas hesitated only for a second before he took it and let Dean lead him to the ticket gate. 

Cas named the giant teddy bear Balthazar on account of his light fur. He had a blue ribbon around his neck which reminded Dean of Cas’ tie, he was large enough to take up most of Baby’s backseat and they most certainly turned him around so he couldn’t watch them that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like more Dean/Cas carnival adventures feat. plushies may I suggest this amazing, **amazing** work and its sequel for your reading pleasure: [When the Levee Breaks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20769434)


	17. Parade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the third iteration of this chapter because I threw a bit of a wobble over the original two :O   
> Sorry for those of you who get notifications <3

Leaning against a wall in the sheriff’s office, Dean could see into the street below. Not that there was much of the street to see. It was a mass of colour. Every colour in every form. There were streamers, flags, confetti, balloons and glitter...so much glitter. But then what would one expect from a Pride parade. It was only a local thing but people were no less enthusiastic for it. Floats were passing by but Dean wasn’t watching them. 

For all the rainbows and distraction, Dean’s eyes were drawn to a group of men off to the side watching the procession. There were about six of them but one, in particular, reminded him of Bobby. 

Not that he looked like Bobby. Not really. They had a similar build but that was about it. The guy’s beard was darker than Bobby’s had ever been but there was something about the way he carried himself. Something that was undeniably Bobby. 

“Agent?” the sheriff called from the doorway, taking his attention away from the street. She held out a manilla folder to him which Dean took with a smile. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked but Dean was already shaking his head. 

“That’s it for now. I’ll be in touch,” he added. A brief handshake and he was on his way.

As soon as he stepped into the street he was doused in streamers. Nobody had aimed for him or anything; it was simply a fact of walking beside the parade. Not that he minded. Dean smirked to himself as he dusted himself down. He’d need to get his fed suit dry cleaned; there was no way he was going to get the glitter out himself. 

Baby was parked behind the station but once again his eyes fell on the man who wasn’t Bobby. Dean stared for a moment. He felt out of place with his dark suit among such colour. Not that he’d have been throwing himself to watch a pride parade if he was wearing his usual attire. 

He had what he came for. All he needed to do was to get into Baby and drive back to the motel where Cas and Sam would be waiting for him. 

He crossed the street. 

The man saw him coming. Somehow Dean stood out even more than the glitter and rainbows but his expression didn’t waver. Dean waited until he was close enough and took a breath. He couldn’t think of anything to say. He shouldn’t have come. He should have just gotten into Baby and left. He shouldn’t be here. 

Every one of Dean’s thoughts must have shown on his face and the man reached for him, resting a hand supportively on Dean’s shoulder. 

“You’re okay, son,” the man said, quietly, with a hint of Bobby’s twang in his voice. 

Bobby had known. Bobby hadn’t minded. Or if he had he’d never mentioned it. He’d caught Dean messing around with some dark-haired Adonis in the back of one of his cars once but the only thing he’d said about it was, ‘You be careful ‘round your dad, Dean,’ with his hand warm on Dean’s shoulder. It had been the closest thing Dean had had to acceptance. 

Dean looked at the man and gestured towards his t-shirt. “Can I-” he mumbled, feeling like an idiot but the guy really didn’t seem to be judging him. 

“C’mere,” he said, pulling Dean into a tight hug. 

For a moment Dean didn’t react. But then he allowed himself to relax. Then he melted. His arms came around the man and the man held him a little tighter. 

“It’s okay, son,” the man reassured him. “You’re okay. I’m proud of you.” 

The words of a stranger shouldn’t have caught in Dean’s throat but there it was. Dean drew back but the man didn’t release him. Not completely. He looked him over as though to ensure that Dean was alright. 

As though he cared. 

Dean gave him a weak smile feeling infinitely lighter for the experience. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled. 

The man beamed at him. “No problem.” He looked Dean up and down, taking in the cut of his suit and shook his head softly. The way a father would when he couldn’t believe how proud he could be of his children. “You okay?” he asked and Dean nodded. 

He was.

He really was. 

“Thanks,” Dean said again and the man patted him on the shoulder before he stepped back to the other guys, all wearing the same t-shirt; ‘ _Free Dad Hugs’._


	18. Dance

“It’s going to be fine, Dean,” Cas whispered, holding Dean’s hand in his. 

Dean drew his hand away, focusing on some distant point on the floor. It was dark here, hidden as they were but he still felt like people were watching. Not for the first time he adjusted his collar. 

Cas stilled his hand. “Dean. It’s fine.” He hesitated, his fingers trailing across Dean’s cheek. “You look incredible.” 

Dean shrugged him off again and immediately adjusted the collar. “Hm,” he scoffed. He wanted to say that Cas looked gorgeous too. He wanted to say that together they looked damn good together and he vaguely wondered what the soilage charge was on their rented tuxedos. There was no way they were going to be returned clean. Not with Cas looking as good as he did. Not when Cas’ eyes darkened every time he looked at Dean. 

But all that could wait. 

They had the case to finish first but Sam thought he was onto something. Dean and Cas just had to do this one thing…

“I don’t think I can do this, Cas,” Dean breathed. 

Cas didn’t try and placate him, just squeezed his hand reassuringly. This time Dean didn’t pull away. 

“One-five-nine. One-six-one. One-six-two and one-six-three,” a formal voice called and Dean didn’t have a chance to worry anymore. Cas took his hand and however much Dean wanted to run, he let Cas lead him. 

He could do this. 

He could do this. 

There were a hundred eyes on him, or at least it felt like it. It probably wasn’t that bad. 

The other couples took their positions around them and Dean felt like this was the worst thing he’d ever had to do for a case and he’d had to do some pretty ridiculous things. But Cas’ eyes were warm on him as he took his hand and gently manoeuvred Dean into position. 

“It’s just us, Dean,” Cas whispered. “Just like we practised.” 

Dean nodded and it was easier if he focused on Cas. The room and the people melted away. Cas’ touch was warm in his hand and against his hip. It was just the two of them and Cas was leading. 

The music started and Dean even managed to smile as Cas pulled him close. 

Who knew Cas could dance? Who knew Cas could dance well enough to pass them off as entrants in a dance competition? Dean had picked it up with greater ease than Sam (and if he was honest, if someone was going to dance with Cas it was going to be Dean). Sam was on recon anyway, checking out the judging panel to see if one of them showed any signs of being the creature they were hunting. They’d tried to get close earlier and failed which was how Dean and Cas came to be gliding across the dance floor like this. 

At least they didn’t need to do well. 

Not that it was difficult, Dean noted with surprise. He let Cas guide him and found that actually...he quite enjoyed it. Cas moved him with grace and ease. It was easy for Dean to lose himself in Cas’ eyes and imagine it was just the two of them. 

He barely noticed when the music stopped. If Cas hadn’t been paying more attention, Dean would have been happy for them to carry on. 

Cas didn’t say anything, he just smiled and Dean found himself smiling back. They stepped off the floor to watch the next round of couples. Not that Dean had any intention of watching them. His eyes never left Cas and neither did his hand. He didn’t care who could see them. Not when they vacated the floor, not when he drew Cas in for a kiss.

It was Sam who interrupted them, clearing his throat quietly. 

Dean rolled his eyes, “Kinda busy here, Sammy,” he muttered. 

Sam was unfazed, he’d gotten used to it by now. “The woman at the end,” he said, quietly. “It’s her.” 

“Alright. So...we ask to see her outside and gank her or what?” Dean asked. 

“Actually…” Sam grinned, “she gave you a pretty high score. I’ll take care of her, you guys are dancing in the next round.” 

“Seriously?” Dean laughed and then quickly covered himself. “I mean...that’s great.” As soon as Sam had turned away though he didn’t bother hiding how happy he was. “Can you believe that?” he asked, kissing Cas thoroughly. “Good thing you paid attention all those centuries humans were figuring out how to put one foot in front of the other.”

Even in the dim light, Dean saw Cas’ cheeks flush red. “Actually, I learned it off YouTube while you and Sam were on a hunt some years ago.” 

For some reason, Dean found that idea even more incredible than Cas learning it all from the humans who had created the moves. 

“You’re amazing, Cas,” he smiled, kissing him again. “Don’t ever change.” 


	19. Mutual Support

Dean opened his eyes and immediately regretted it. His head exploded with pain and the rest of his body didn’t feel too hot either. He couldn’t tell where he was; just that it was dark. It wasn’t pitch black though and when his eyes had adjusted, Dean recognised brick walls and a concrete floor. A basement then. Which meant that somewhere there was a door. He tried to sit up and winced from the effort. He lifted his hand to his face and he didn’t need to be able to see it to know that it came away bloody. 

The blood had dried though. He’d been down here a while. 

His tuxedo was completely ruined. They definitely weren’t going to get their deposit back. 

Dean tried to stretch out only to let out a yelp of pain as his leg protested the movement. 

They weren’t getting to the third round of the dance competition either, it seemed.

Sam had been right. The judge at the end of the table had been the thing they’d been hunting; a satyress. They hadn’t realised that the judge next to her was also a satyress. Or that the one next to them was a satyr. Turns out there was only one human on the judging panel and even that was an assumption. 

“Dean?” Cas’ rasped from somewhere. His voice was distant but easily heard in the silence.

“Cas?”

“Dean!” There was a distinct sound of shuffling, several pained gasps and then Cas was beside him, having apparently dragged himself in from another room in the basement. “Dean, are you alright?” 

Dean felt Cas’ hand on his face and he saw the glimmer of blue even in the darkness. 

“I think my leg…” Dean broke off, it hurt too much. “You okay?”

He felt rather than saw Cas frown and realised what Cas was about to do just a split second before he did it. 

“Cas,  _ no!”  _

But Cas’ hand was already on his injured leg. A familiar warmth spread through Dean in time with the familiar glow in Cas’ eyes. It wasn’t as bright as it had once been and when Cas’ hand drew away Dean could feel that the worst of his leg might be healed but it wasn’t perfect. It was enough to get them out of the basement though, even as Cas swayed on the spot and almost collapsed even though he was already on the floor. 

“It could have waited,” Dean snapped. The anger in his voice was entirely borne from worry and he trusted Cas to know that. He took Cas’ hand but Cas could barely hold it. “C’mon, we gotta get out of here.” 

He tried to brace Cas under his shoulder without putting too much weight on his leg. If it weren’t dark they would have looked ridiculous shambling through the dark looking for the way out. Not that the dark helped them. Dean let himself fall against a wall so that it took most of his weight while he helped Cas shuffle across the floor. 

“You got your angel blade handy?” Dean asked. 

“Of course.” 

“Good. I’ve got nothing and if we have to fight our way out of here I don’t fancy either of our chances.” 

“We’ve faced worse odds,” Cas offered and Dean could feel the warmth of his smile against his skin. 

Dean grumbled something incoherently because yeah they had but that was hardly the point. 

A sudden shaft of light split through the darkness and Dean almost dropped Cas from the glare of it. Cas forced himself in front of Dean even though he could barely stand up straight. He forced himself between Dean and whatever was about to come through the door. 

Dean had never told Cas that he loved him. 

He’d always left it open to interpretation. 

How many times did he have to lose Cas before he actually told him?

“Dean?!” Sam’s voice cut down the stairs. “Cas?!”

“Sam!” Dean called back, asking the only question that mattered. “Did you get them?”

“Yeah!” 

Cas slumped against Dean and Dean let them slide to the ground. 

“Turns out fire kills them too!” Sam called. “You guys alright?” 

Dean pulled Cas close to him, both of them barely able to stand but still trying to help each other up regardless. 

He’d never told Cas that he loved him. 

He should do that.

Sam’s arms helped Cas from Dean’s grasp before he turned to help his brother up. 

He’d tell him later. 


	20. Confession

Cas grunted as Dean peeled the suit pants from his skin but it was more pained than sexy. 

“Gotta tell you, Cas. When we rented these tuxedos this isn’t how I imagined getting out of them.” 

Cas laughed but the sound caught in his throat as he groaned and turned his face into the motel pillow. 

The door opened and closed behind Sam as he brought in some more ice for the worst of Dean’s swelling. 

“Hey, you guys alright?” he asked. 

Dean shrugged his jacket off and untangled the tattered remains of the bowtie from around his neck. “Yeah, we’re good.” 

Sam wrapped the ice in one of their bloodied shirts and handed it to Dean to hold against the side of his head. He wasn’t even sure when it was that he’d hit his head but  _ Goddamn _ he was feeling it now. 

“You need anything else?”

Dean shook his head and winced at the pain. He could do with an entire bottle of whiskey but Sam wasn’t likely to get him one. Besides, his brother sounded exhausted and he’d more than earned his rest. 

“Go to bed, Sam,” Dean sighed. “I’ll take care of us.”

He didn’t need to be looking at Sam to feel his concerned look. “You sure?” 

“We’re just gonna crash out ourselves,” Dean pointed out. “Go get some sleep.” 

“Alright,” Sam said, too tired to argue. “Call me if you need anything.” 

Dean mumbled something that might have been a response but Sam was already falling out of the door.

“You okay, Cas?” Dean rasped. 

“I’ll be fine,” Cas sighed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for your leg.” 

“You did plenty,” Dean muttered, dropping the makeshift ice pack onto the floor so he could get into the bed next to Cas. 

Cas went easily into his arms, resting against Dean’s chest as though he belonged there as Dean pulled the covers over them. 

“When I’m recovered I’ll-” 

“You’ll do nothing, Cas,” Dean said, quietly. “I’m alright. I’ll heal the old-fashioned way. You need to recharge too.” 

Cas murmured agreement as he left a kiss on Dean’s cheek. He settled and fell asleep which Dean could never imagine getting used to. Not that Cas was asleep. He’d explained it before as a deep, almost meditative state that allowed his grace to recharge. As far as Dean was concerned he was asleep. 

Dean listened to Cas’ breathing even out, feeling it skirt across his neck and he held him a little tighter. He was exhausted but his leg was hurting and he wanted to stay awake a little longer just so he could appreciate having Cas in his arms like this. 

He kissed him on the forehead and let his hand cradle Cas’ face. 

Another near miss. 

Another hunt that could have gone sideways. 

But they’d gotten through it and Cas was warm and solid against him. 

Dean’s fingers found their way into Cas’ hair. It was so soft despite everything they’d been through. In the quiet of the room, only this seemed to matter. There was only Dean and there was only Cas resting against him. 

What else could there be?

Dean pressed his lips to Cas’ forehead and sighed into the darkness. 

“I love you, Cas.” 


	21. Proposal

Cas was doing the dishes. He didn’t have to but Dean had cooked, Sam and Rowena had already disappeared so Cas had offered. Dean was keeping him company though he hadn’t actually said or done anything for some time. Instead, he’d watched Cas rinse the plates and load the dishwasher, his bottle of beer paused halfway to his lips. 

Life with Castiel was rarely so domestic. 

Their entire lives together had been (and would likely continue to be) coloured by hugely defining moments that overshadowed everything else. When Dean thought about Cas, he didn’t think of the quiet, mundane moments that under normal circumstances would have made up the bulk of their relationship. Instead, there were far more dramatic memories to relive. 

When Dean thought about Cas he saw barn doors all but blasted off their hinges, sparks raining through the air and his first glimpse of blue. 

He remembered barely getting his bearings after Zachariah showed him a future where he  _ still _ wasn’t treating Cas right and thinking he’d never get the chance to because the angels were  _ pissed _ . He remembered suddenly being on the side of a road with Cas smiling softly at him.

_ ‘We had an appointment.’ _

_ ‘Don’t ever change.’ _

When Dean pictured Cas in his mind, he pictured sitting in Baby while Cas ate burger after burger and Dean felt nothing. He was empty. The only thing he wanted was sat in the passenger seat groaning into cheap beef patties.

He imagined a betrayal that had cut him so deep he’d refused to believe it until the proof was absolute and he couldn’t look away. He saw blue, sadder than he’d ever seen it, begging and pleading for Dean to listen. 

_ ‘I do everything that you ask. I always come when you call. And I am your friend…’ _

When Dean thought about that day his stomach still churned. It was a prelude to some of the darker days of Dean’s life. He thought he’d lost Cas and then he found himself looking down on _‘Emmanuel’_ , his heart warring within him at everything Cas had done against the sheer relief of having him in front of him again. 

More often than not Dean remembered Purgatory. He remembered becoming more of a monster than he ever thought possible of himself just so he could find Cas. He remembered finding him beside a colourless river but Cas’ eyes were still blue and Dean wouldn’t have hated being stuck there if it meant Cas was with him. 

And then he lost Cas all over again. Even when he came back there had been something off. He remembered looking up at Cas through blood and pain, pleading with him to fight it. Dean hadn’t even been sure what it was that Cas needed to fight. He just couldn’t bear for Cas to come through it and find Dean dead at his hand. 

_ ‘It’s me. We’re family. We need you. I need you.’ _

Everything they did seemed to end with one of them betraying the other. Or hurting each other. Begging each other to stop. 

He could picture Cas’ blue eyes when he found the Mark of Cain on his arm. He stared into the same blue as Cas tried to stop him. 

_ ‘Everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. Everyone except me…’ _

He stared down into bloodied and bruised blue as Cas whispered, _‘stop.’_

He could go on. Often Dean did; allowing his memories to run away with him just so he couldn’t get too comfortable with Cas in his arms or Cas’ lips on his. How many times had he wished for this and now that he had it, he forced himself to think on all those times they had hurt each other. 

It wasn’t as if they didn’t have happy moments too.

The warmth of Cas’ arms around him when Dean bid his family goodbye. The way he clung to him when Dean returned alive and whole. The smile on his face when Dean handed him a mixtape. The sheer bliss in Cas’ eyes when Dean had kissed him for the first time. The way Cas always brought him a cup of coffee in the morning and looked so happy to do it…

They might not be as dramatic as the larger moments but there were so many of them…

Dean clinging to Cas after a hunt, even a milk run, just to remind them that they were together. Dean singing along to whatever was playing on Baby’s speakers and Cas joining in only to trail off a moment later because he just loved hearing Dean sing. Dean rolling over in bed and reaching for Cas knowing he’d be there even though he didn’t need to sleep. 

Those were what he wanted more of. Those were the defining moments of their life.

Dean never intended to hurt Cas again and he felt secure enough in Cas’ love to consider the feeling mutual. 

“Dean?” Cas asked, waving a hand in front of Dean’s face to bring him back to reality. “Are you okay?” 

“Marry me, Cas.” 

He wanted this. He wanted a lifetime of defining moments that were quiet, soft. He wanted whispers in the night and moans of bliss. He wanted to look at Cas and know that this was forever.

Cas hadn’t moved. He stared at Dean as though he’d said something in a pre-Babel language that not even he could understand.

“What?” 

Maybe Dean had gotten it wrong. Maybe marriage wouldn’t mean anything to Cas. It was a human thing after all. Still...he’d said it now.

“Marry me.” 

Dean didn’t see Cas move. One minute he was standing in front of Dean, the next he was in his lap, kissing him as though his life depended on it. His kisses were a little damp but Cas wouldn’t let up. 

“Yes, Dean,” he breathed, his blue eyes shining. “Yes.”


	22. Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be a wedding! And if you want MORE wedding! Check out what Maggie wrote for me: [The Wedding](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24832558)

It was a Thursday. 

They hadn't planned it to be a Thursday, it just happened to be the first day back after a case. 

Neither Cas nor Dean had specifically said anything but Dean woke that morning, his eyes found Cas and he just knew that _that_ was the day. That he didn't want to go a single moment longer without being able to call his angel his husband. 

From the way Cas had smiled at him, Dean knew that he'd practically read his mind. But then as far as Cas was concerned Dean was an open book. He had nothing left to hide. Nothing he didn't want Cas to see. Cas loved all of him especially the bits Dean hated. 

But Dean wasn't about to get caught up in all that. Not when Cas was smiling so beautifully. 

"Alright," Dean whispered, pushing the covers off and reaching for the shirt he'd discarded the day before. "Let's do this." 

Sam watched them leave without a word but the biggest, dopiest grin Dean had ever seen on his face. He seemed to have clocked what was happening without being told and he didn’t seem in the least bit put out that he wasn’t being invited. Not that there was much to invite him to; they were hardly about to run down to the courthouse and make it official. 

Instead, it was as it had always been. 

Dean and Cas.

Dean and Cas standing too close to each other and looking at each other with pure longing even though by definition this was the moment where they most definitely had each other. Cas wore his trench coat/suit combo complete with a tie that he had long since learned how to tie properly but had left backwards for the occasion. Dean wore denim and flannel. 

They stood in a clearing close to the bunker. They hadn’t picked this spot especially; it was just conveniently close and Dean felt like this should be done outside. He wanted Heaven to be able to look down and see how far Castiel had come. Not that  _ they’d _ see it like that but Dean had never been so proud. And not just because they were doing what they were doing. 

He took a breath. The air was the chilled side of pleasant and Dean felt refreshed. 

“Dean,” Cas said.

“Cas.” 

It felt like that was all they needed to say. What more was there? 

Cas reached into his pocket and then he took Dean’s hand in his. He slipped a ring onto the finger that Dean had never expected to see a ring on, let alone one etched with such beautiful runes. Cas said something in Enochian and even though his grace was dwindling Dean would swear he’d never seen Cas’ eyes so bright. 

Dean felt warmth bloom within him. It might have been the Enochian, might have been the weight of the ring or it might just have been because he was so damned happy. 

He had a ring for Cas too. They’d picked them together at a pawn shop on their last hunt when they’d been looking for the previous owner of some haunted silverware. That hadn’t been intended either; Dean had just seen the wedding bands and called Cas over. Cas had never looked so happy but then Dean was seeing that look on him a lot lately. 

Dean took Cas’ hand and thought about what he could say. There was so much of it. Apologies for what he’d done in the past but that was done now. Promises to stay by him forever but Cas knew that. He could talk about their profound bond but what would he say that could do it even the slightest justice? For richer and poorer seemed a little redundant given that their lives were lived off credit card fraud. 

“I love you, Cas,” he whispered as the ring settled onto Cas’ fingers as though angels had always been meant for such things. 

Then Cas’ lips were on his, his fingers in Dean’s hair and it felt done. 

Dean wrapped his arms around his husband’s waist and lifted him into the air. 

Castiel had lost his wings but he was flying. 

They probably spent more time kissing each other than they had exchanging vows but somehow it seemed appropriate. 

They broke apart so they could look at each other and nothing should have changed but everything had. Dean’s eyes kept going back to the band on Cas’ finger.

“Cas Winchester,” he breathed, his heart swelling within him. 

“Are you not going to take my last name?” Cas deadpanned even though Dean had never seen him smile so much. 

“Hm,” Dean muttered, chasing Cas’ lips for another kiss. “Dean: Angel of the Lord. Doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.” 

Ring. 

They had rings.  _   
_

_ Wedding rings. _

Dean lifted Cas’ hand to his lips and kissed the wedding band that proclaimed him his. 

“Cas Winchester then,” Cas agreed. He was surely going to break if he smiled any more. 

They walked back to the bunker slowly, hand in hand. They would never let each other go. 

Sam wasn’t waiting for them but an envelope was. 

Reservations at a couples spa for the upcoming weekend. A _fancy_ couples spa. The note said it was from Sam and Rowena and Dean wondered for a brief moment how he could ever have thought himself unworthy of this love. 

But Cas’ eyes were tracing the name of the reservation, his hand still tight in Dean’s. 

Mr and Mr Winchester. 


	23. Anniversary

Dean’s head felt as though it had split open several times only to be whacked with an iron rod before being dropped onto a concrete floor while he had a headache. He came back to consciousness slowly, painfully and was fully aware of the groan that left him without his permission. 

He wasn’t surprised in the slightest to find himself looking up at the sterile ceiling of a hospital room. His eyes protested having to open but he took in the regulation hospital gown and the several drips feeding into the cannula in his hand. 

Cas was beside him in an uncomfortably small chair with enough stubble that pointed to at least a twenty-four-hour stay. 

“Morning sunshine,” Dean grinned, his voice sounding hoarse and dry. 

Automatically Cas reached for the water jug and poured him a glass, pressing it to Dean’s lips gently. 

“You’re awake,” he said with obvious relief. 

“Mm-hm,” Dean mumbled, relishing the crispness of the water, a welcome contrast to his parched throat. He managed to tell Cas he’d had enough from a gesture with his eyebrows alone and Cas took away the glass. He remained close though, sitting on the edge of the bed and winding his fingers around Dean’s, delicately avoiding the drip. “You okay? And Sam? Did you get them?”

Cas sighed with exasperation but even through it, Dean could see him looking unmistakably fond. “Yes, Dean. Everyone is fine except you.” 

“Cool,” Dean smiled, leaning back against the bed. His head hurt a little less probably as a result of the copious amounts of pain medication being pumped into him. 

“What were you thinking?” Cas sighed, squeezing Dean’s hand. 

“‘Seemed obvious to me,” Dean offered. And it had been. He’d been the first one in through the front, making sure that the nest didn’t move while Cas and Sam cut them off around the back. One of the kidnapped girls must have heard something and started screaming for help. It kinda took away the element of surprise Cas and Sam had been aiming for so Dean just ran on in and started slashing. 

It had worked, hadn’t it? Sam and Cas were okay, they’d gotten the girls out and Dean would be back on his feet in a day or so. 

“You’re not expendable, Dean,” Cas said, firmly. 

Dean stroked his thumb over Cas’ hand, “I know. I wasn’t trying to get myself killed. I knew you guys would be along before they could do any real damage.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “I thought you weren’t going to take risks like this?” 

“Calculated risk, Cas,” Dean said, smiling his most winning of smiles. “Besides, it’s my fault. Should’ve checked this place out before I brought us here. You’d think I’d have learned after y’know...every time we try and catch a break.” 

Cas huffed a smile and leaned in for a kiss. Dean accepted it happily but winced from the pain such a small movement caused. 

“You should be out of here tomorrow,” Cas sighed. “They’re just keeping you in for observation.” 

Dean grinned. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

“You’re my husband,” Cas said, quietly and it still made Dean’s heart flutter to hear it, even now. “I’ll always worry.” He kissed him again. 

There was a tap at the door and a nurse stepped in to read the chart at the end of Dean’s bed. Cas slipped off the bed. “I’ll go call Sam and tell him you’re awake.” He leaned in for a chaste hug and couldn’t help but smile as he whispered, “Happy anniversary, Dean.” 

“Happy anniversary, Cas.” 


	24. Acceptance

The nurse gave Dean one last check-up which mostly involved double checking he could still follow a finger and have his pupils react accordingly to a light before she confirmed, “Alright Mr Campbell, you’re all done here.”

Dean gave her a winning smile and would have jumped from the bed but his head was still a little woozy. He stood up, swayed a little and sat straight back down until the disorientation had settled. The nurse was writing something on his chart and gave a small smirk as Dean tried to cover his obvious mistake. 

“Do you have someone picking you up?” she asked casually. “You probably shouldn’t drive for twenty-four hours.” 

Dean frowned as he tried to do his laces up for no other reason than he couldn’t quite get the angle right. He’d already been through this with the doctor; he was good. “Yeah, my husband is coming…” he adjusted the position of his foot and started again. Easy. “Assuming he can forgive me for ruining our anniversary,” he added with a chuckle. 

The nurse laughed and watched him slip into a flannel though he wasn’t sure whether it was part of her observations or whether she was just making sure he didn’t end up planting his ass on the floor. 

“How long have you been married?” she asked.

“A year.” He’d thought about saying ‘just a year’ but there was no ‘just’ anything when it came to him and Cas. 

Just a year. The happiest year of his life. 

On the surface, nothing had changed. They still went on hunts, Sam still rode shotgun and they still sometimes made a dumbass decision that could land them in the emergency room. There were still longing glances between Dean and Cas that Sam rolled his eyes at. But there were also casual touches and open kisses. There was security Dean had never felt before. An ever-present warmth. He hadn’t ever been so content. He was happier than he'd ever been of course, but it was the quiet contentment that surrounded them with its constancy that Dean revelled in. The fact that Cas was his and wanted to be his. Forever.

The nurse seemed to be weighing something up in her mind before she said, “My wife and I have been married a little more than a year. It was our anniversary last month.” 

Dean grinned at her. “Awesome. It’s awesome isn’t it?”

She caught his eye and they exchanged a knowing smile. “Yeah...yeah, it really is,” she blushed. “You sorta think nothing’ll change and it’s just a formality…”

“And then everything changes and you can’t believe your luck?” Dean offered. 

She grinned and they were both still grinning when Cas stepped through the door a moment later. 

“Here he is,” Dean announced, proudly, pulling Cas into a tight hug even though it had been only been a matter of hours since he’d last seen him. 

Cas looked confused but went into Dean’s arms willingly. He left a kiss on his cheek. “Are you ready?”

Dean nodded and let Cas interlink their fingers. He gave a vague salute at the nurse who was still smiling at them and let his husband steer him from the room. 


	25. Midnight Snacks

The stint in the hospital, however short, had thrown out Dean's sleep schedule and it hadn't exactly been in great shape beforehand. He woke with a start in the early hours of the morning, groaning when he saw the time. 

He tried to settle back into sleep, he really did. But...his stomach rumbled instead. He felt snacky but he didn't want to get out of bed and find something to eat. He should probably just ignore it and go back to sleep but he'd thought about it now so he _had_ to eat something. 

Cas was probably in the library but Dean didn't want to bother him even though he wouldn't mind. Without turning on the light he reached over the bed for the duffle he knew would be in the vicinity. Cas had taken to stashing the occasional snack in there for Dean’s sake. He rooted around and sure enough, his hand brushed over something generically plastic which crinkled under his touch. 

Score. 

Dean snuggled back down into the bed as he easily opened the bag from muscle memory rather than sight. He reached inside and hit the jackpot. 

Candy.

It seemed to be on a string of some kind but it was definitely candy. Sam would throw a fit if he could see Dean eating candy in bed and probably bitch at him about needing to brush his teeth again. Cas probably wouldn’t be overly impressed either but then Cas was more easily won over by a nice smile and Dean’s charms. 

Idly, he wondered where Cas had gotten the candy from. It was delicious, even if he did have to bite it off a string. It might have been one of those candy necklaces, Dean thought but he still didn’t know why Cas had gotten something like that from. He usually got chips or pretzels. 

The bedroom door opened quietly and the light from beyond it spilled into the room, all at once too bright for Dean who ducked under the covers. Cas shut the door behind him quickly. 

“Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be awake,” he whispered. 

Dean heard him cross the room and the familiar rustle that meant he’d shrugged off the trench-coat. The bed dipped under Cas’ weight and Dean leaned into the welcome warmth even though it wasn’t cold. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Hm,” Dean hummed happily. 

He felt Cas pause. “Are you...eating something?” 

“Oh, yeah. I found some candy in the bag.” 

Cas hesitated. “Oh...you’re...you’re eating it?” 

“It’s pretty good,” Dean said, quickly to cover the fact that Cas sounded a little put out. “The string is a weird touch. Why does it have string anyway?” 

Again, Cas hesitated but this time he chuckled. “You didn’t look at it did you?”

Now it was Dean who froze. He leaned over and turned the side lamp on. 

Cas pushed himself up on one elbow and without anything on he looked even more delicious than the candy. But Dean was more concerned with what he’d been chowing down on. He looked between the candy and the packaging. 

“You got us underwear...that _we can eat_?”

Cas leaned back against the pillows. “No. I got _myself_ underwear that _you_ can eat. I thought it would be an amusing anniversary present.” 

Dean’s brain was offline. The candy underwear was in his hand and Cas was naked beside him so it should have been an easily imagined thing to picture Cas wearing the underwear but he was too stunned that Cas had gotten such a thing. 

“Why didn’t you wear it?” Dean snapped. It was suddenly the most important thing in the world that Cas wear the candy underwear. 

Cas rolled his eyes but he was smiling. “Because my husband ended up in the emergency room so I never got the chance and now you’ve eaten most of it,” he sighed but he sounded amused. “Luckily you didn’t find some of the other things I’d purchased for the occasion.” 

“Like what?” Dean demanded, impatient in a way he always way when it came to Cas’ body against his. 

“You’re recovering from a hospital stay, Dean,” Cas warned, tucking him under his arm and soothing him with gentle touches even though Dean’s blood was on fire. “When you’re better…” he let the promise hang in the air and Dean couldn’t help but groan. 

“But…”

“Maybe next time you’ll be more careful with yourself,” Cas whispered but there was no edge to his voice. 

Dean was quiet for a long time. Mostly so he could toss the candy aside and try not to think about how good Cas would look wearing it. Wearing _ only _ it. 

“We should have another anniversary,” he mumbled when it looked like sleep might take him at last. 

He felt Cas’ lips at the spot behind his ear that only Cas had ever discovered. “We will. I made numerous purchases at the adult store.”

Dean groaned again. 

Point taken. 

He’d never put himself in danger again. 


	26. Chocolate

Castiel could still surprise Dean. He wasn’t all that good at surprises and he didn’t go in for them usually but when he put his mind to it he could be remarkably sweet and unexpected. He’d been hinting that he had a surprise for Dean ever since they took care of a local haunt. Nothing too strenuous but Cas had implied there was a reward waiting for Dean in their room to show him how much Cas appreciated him not taking any unnecessary risks. 

Of the handful of images that had run through Dean’s head; Cas, naked on their bed had featured in most of them. Cas, naked on their bed, having painted himself in Enochian with edible chocolate paint had not but it would surely feature in a number of his dreams from that point on. 

For a moment Dean allowed himself to savour the sight of his husband laid out before him. Even when he was naked himself and lying beside Cas, he took a breath to just appreciate it. After all, Cas was beautiful and Dean still couldn’t quite believe he could be so lucky. 

The chocolate smelled divine against Cas’ skin. It seemed to compliment everything Dean loved about the smell of Cas’ skin against his and made it richer. Sweeter. He adored this man and Cas started to grow hard under Dean’s gaze alone. 

“What does this say?” Dean asked, tracing a finger through one of the symbols and bringing it to his lips to taste. 

It didn’t taste as good as it smelled but Dean found he really didn’t care. 

“It marks me as yours,” Cas whispered, stealing the sugary sweetness from Dean’s lips with his own. “I’ve always been yours.” 

A possessive thrill flared through Dean’s body and he moaned softly as he leaned in and started licking away at the marks Cas had made. The angelic equivalent of ‘Property of Dean Winchester: Do not touch’. 

Dean’s mouth moved across Cas’ chest, kissing at the runes, smearing chocolate all over him as he went. In no time at all almost every one of the symbols had been blurred and smeared but no less a declaration of Dean’s devotion. Cas’ eyes never left Dean’s, tracking each movement, each press of his lips right up until the point where Dean’s mouth reached Cas’ cock. When Dean swallowed around him Cas couldn’t help but look away, his eyes fluttering shut as his head fell back against the pillow. 

The bitter tang of Cas against his tongue was welcome against the overwhelming sweetness of the chocolate and Dean sucked him down as though he were the most delicious thing on the menu. 

Cas’ hands wandered into Dean’s hair, his fingers tangling against the roots as he gently rocked his hips into the warmth of Dean’s mouth. He didn’t push too hard but Dean relaxed his throat, catching Cas’ eye to show him that he could go harder. 

So Cas did. 

His hands were firm against Dean’s head, holding him in position as he fucked himself deeper into Dean’s throat. Dean’s throat was sore from a combination of Cas’ thrusts and the artificial flavour of the paint but Dean really didn’t care. He let Cas use him, humming around Cas’ cock, knowing that Cas could feel every one of the vibrations. 

Cas could never hold out against Dean’s mouth. He tried to slow himself so Dean whipped out every trick he knew, letting his tongue lap at Cas’ slip, hollowing his cheeks and swirling his tongue around the shaft. 

“Dean,” Cas gasped out, moving to pull Dean off but Dean stayed and swallowed every drop. 

Cas dropped back against the covers, panting as Dean covered his sticky body in stickier kisses. Dean’s own cock was solid between them but he knew he wouldn’t be left disappointed. 

“Shower?” he suggested, kissing his way up to Cas’ lips. 

Cas murmured something that was probably agreement as he caught Dean’s lips with his own, reaching in with his tongue to taste himself and the chocolate in Dean’s mouth. 

He pulled back almost harshly with a frown and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“You okay?” Dean asked, seeing as this was hardly the first time they’d tasted themselves like this. 

Cas reached for the body paint and tasted a small drop before wrinkling his nose. 

“Dean, that’s disgusting. I’m so sorry, I should have tried it first-”

Dean chuckled and went right back to kissing him, albeit with less tongue this time. 

“It wasn’t that bad,” he insisted. “Besides  _ you’re _ delicious.” 

Cas hummed thoughtfully, “Next time we’ll use real chocolate.” 

Dean couldn’t help but smile. 

_ Next time. _


	27. Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not doing so well health-wise at the moment so I've not been able to reply to comments on this for a couple of days but I still read them and really appreciate them ❤️❤️

* * *

Normally when a supply run needed to be done just one of the Winchesters would go. Sometimes Cas might if he was particularly bored but not often. Rarely would the three of them go together. 

But the last time Sam had gone he hadn't brought back bacon. _And_ he'd picked up veggie mince instead of proper mince. He'd said it was all they had but Dean didn't know if that was true or if his brother were simply ramping up his efforts to try and turn Dean vegetarian. 

Sam in return didn't trust Dean to do the shopping alone and not just ignore his list of vegetables as payback. 

So they all went. 

Cas pushed the cart while Sam and Dean bickered over what the other threw in. In the end Dean separated their stuff into two piles so "the leafy shit" didn't touch any of his "actual food."

Sam rolled his eyes, "you've got fruit too, Dean, so you know it's not all bad."

"I have not!" Dean snapped. "You take that back!" 

Sam pointed at the cart as Cas threw in a box of pie mix. It rolled into 'Sam's half' so he made sure to stack it with Dean's things. 

"Look! I didn't get those strawberries or the melon." Sam said, pointing at the offending punnets. 

Dean frowned because sure enough there was fruit on his side of the cart. 

"I got them. For us." Cas said before Dean could argue the point. 

Sam snorted. "You don't even eat, Cas."

Cas mumbled something that sounded like, ' _more to do with food than eat it-_ ' but Dean had obviously misheard. 

They carried on though Dean noticed out of the corner of his eye Cas adding things to what had become 'their' pile. He tried not to think too hard about what was going in because popping a boner while on a grocery run was hardly his idea of a good time. 

In went some chocolate. Fancy stuff too. Cherries, honey (that was going to be sticky), champagne…

Champagne?

He caught Cas' eye but Cas just smiled innocently. Dean could practically see the halo glowing above his gorgeous head. This was fine. Just a normal shopping trip for normal shopping things. 

"Whoah. Champagne, Dean?" Sam asked as they loaded the belt up with the groceries. 

Dean mumbled something noncommittal. Next time he'd drop Sam at a farmer's market or something and him and Cas would handle the store. 

"Why do you need so much whipped cream?" Sam asked with his stupid little brother mouth that wouldn't shut up. 

"One is for general use and one is for… Us," Cas said as Dean blushed. Hard. 

"What do you mean 'us'?" 

Sam looked at the shopping confused before he practically fell over as he tried to back away. 

"Oh, gross, guys, seriously?!" 

Dean was about to say something, what he hadn't figured out yet, but he was sure his brain would catch up. Before he could Cas rolled his eyes. 

"I didn't feel the need to point out that at least four of your herbs can be combined with several ingredients in the bunker to make a potent aphrodisiac." 

Finally, Sam shut up. 

Dean didn't though. "Ew, you guys do that witchy stuff in the bedroom?" 

"Oh like the power doesn't start going every time you two-" 

"Cash or credit?" the girl at the checkout interrupted, looking between the three of them with nothing short of mild horror. 

"Credit," Cas muttered, reaching for Dean's wallet. 

They didn't speak for the duration of the journey home. 


	28. Flowers

Dean and Castiel sat on a bench watching the small crowd gathered around a recently dug plot in the cemetery. The sheriff stood out as the only one in uniform rather than a black suit. Normally they wouldn't have spoken to him so soon after a funeral but whatever they were hunting had struck and killed every night that week and Dean didn't want it to strike again.

Not if they could help it.

The sheriff was the only witness but hadn't said what he'd seen. Pretty standard then. 

The small gathering around the grave started to relax and a handful of people drifted away. The sheriff looked up and happened to catch Dean's eye. He took in the suit and saw that Dean was clearly waiting for him. He gestured that he'd be along soon.

Business as usual.

Dean settled back into the bench and waited. 

Beside him, Cas looked at a different grave. One closer to them. It wasn't recent but the flowers certainly were. Their petals moved gently in the wind - the only movement in the place beside the few mourners gathered ahead of them. 

"You okay, Cas?" Dean asked but Cas was far away in thought. His eyes were entirely focused on the arrangement even though he seemed to be looking beyond them. His hands were clasped in his lap, one finger tracing his wedding band over and over. 

"Cas?" Dean nudged him with his leg and Cas looked back at him suddenly, his eyes wide as though he'd missed something. "Hey… You okay?" 

"Oh… Yes," Cas sighed but Dean could tell there was something more. Cas' hand reached for his and squeezed tight. "Sorry. I was just thinking about how many times we've died."

Dean knew what Cas meant but he couldn't help but smirk. Cas met his eyes and chuckled. 

"I love you, Dean," Cas said looking at him with those fathomless blue eyes. There seemed something almost final about it but Dean realised that he was just projecting. They usually visited graveyards to desecrate something. They didn't usually hang around for the ambience or the inevitable confrontation with their own mortality. 

In an ideal world, Dean might have reassured his husband that there was nothing to worry about but…there really was. Neither of them were under any illusions that a hunt could be Dean's last. They hadn't ever discussed it but then… They'd never had to. 

All they could do was love each other so when the end inevitably came they had no regrets. A sentiment which came easier now that they actually _had_ each other. It seemed ridiculous that there had been a time when they had danced around the subject but Dean wasn't much for brooding on it. Not much anyway. He had Cas _now_ and that would be enough for them. He wasn't sure what it was that they were hunting but he'd take extra care not to get killed over it. For Cas' sake if not his own. 

"I love you too, Cas," Dean whispered, his lips ghosting over the shell of Cas' ear. "C'mon let's go talk to our witness."

Cas nodded absently even though his eyes had already been drawn back to the wreaths left on the nearby grave. 

_'In loving memory of a dear husband…'_


	29. Intersection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the well wishes guys ❤️❤️ I'm not doing much better but hey, Im sure it'll pass :)

Considering the thing - a spriggan Sam had called it - had managed to rack up such a body count it had been surprisingly easy to kill. Dean hadn't even gotten a scratch. He'd hurt himself more when he'd tripped over the step into the motel room after they'd gotten back. 

Cas had kissed him better. 

Now they were heading back to the bunker. Dean’s fingers tapped a beat against the wheel as Cas hummed along to the music beside him. Cas looked off into the distance, admiring the scenery as they passed it. Dean hadn’t really paid attention to any of it but he at least appreciated that the place was a little greener than most. 

He stopped at the next stop sign and indicated to head left onto the road home. His eyes drifted to the right. 

It was nothing spectacular. Just a house sitting solo at the side of a quiet road surrounded by so much grass it was less a garden and more a field. The bright red ‘for sale’ sign was bright against the traditional white planking and for a moment, just a brief moment, Dean allowed himself to look at it. 

Cas had never mentioned Dean retiring. Dean knew he never would. When the end finally came for Dean Winchester it was going to be on the job. 

It didn't have to be, of course. If he told Cas he was going to pack it all in he couldn't imagine his husband actually minding. He could pull over right now and call the number on the sign. Sure, it wasn’t as easy as all that but this was a fleeting fantasy and reality played no part in it.

There were steps that led up to a porch that Cas would decorate with windchimes. Dean would complain about them but secretly he’d find their soft, melodic clinks comforting. 

There were planting boxes along one side of the house which Cas would grow herbs in. He already did what he could at the bunker but his efforts were hampered a little by the surrounding woodland that claimed most of the sunlight and almost all of the water. They’d be mostly herbs for hunts because old habits die hard but he’d grow stuff for the kitchen too. 

Dean would cook. A house like that would have a nice size kitchen and there would definitely be space behind it for a grill. Sam and Rowena would come over for cookouts and they weren’t too far from Jody and the girls either. He could get to know Donna a little better and her sunny smile would always be welcome in the house that hadn’t been touched by a hunt. 

They’d have a fire pit so they could settle out back together and toast beer bottles over the embers. Inside they’d have a couch so large initially the delivery guys would worry about how they’d get it through the door. But they’d succeed and Dean would stretch out on it, his head in his husband’s lap as Cas stroked his hair and watched some nature documentary that Dean only cared about because Cas liked them. He’d fall asleep there but Cas would always wake him so they could go upstairs to bed. 

He’d bring his mattress of course. 

They’d sleep to a soundscape of the wind in the trees, the occasional car passing but mostly the sound of a hundred bugs that only came out at night. Cas would be able to name every one of them. 

They’d-

“Dean?” Cas called and Dean ripped his eyes from the house back to the road. 

They’d been stopped too long. 

Dean wasn’t going to retire. 

That wasn’t the life for them. 

He pulled out and headed back for the bunker, the house already forgotten.


	30. Domestic

It was late when Dean parked Baby in the bunker’s garage. Beside him, Cas rolled his neck in such a way that Dean couldn’t help but be jealous of the satisfying clicks it made. Dean waited until he’d gotten out of the car to stretch, his body grateful for the movement even as he yawned. 

A quick look in on the library and the kitchen showed that Sam had already gone to bed. Normally he’d have waited up but the empty wine glasses on the kitchen table told of Rowena’s presence and Dean wouldn’t even expect to compete with that. There was a paper bag on the table bearing the logo of a classy patisserie that only Rowena knew of and Dean couldn’t help but grin at it. He didn’t need to check it to know she’d left it for him. There were two pastries inside but Dean knew he didn’t need to offer Cas the second one. 

He should have sat down to eat but his legs were enjoying their freedom too much so instead he followed Cas to the bedroom, slipping into the soundless routine that followed a hunt and ended with Dean crashing out on blessed memory foam. He crumpled the bag in his hands having already devoured the contents and tossed it into the wastepaper basket in the corner of the room. 

Cas tracked the motion and rolled his eyes. 

“Did you even stop to chew?” he asked quietly even though they knew from experience the bunker had excellent soundproofing. 

Dean didn’t dignify that with an answer. Not a verbal one at any rate. He gave a wide, open-mouthed smile in which he managed to display every fleck of pastry, chocolate and raspberry that he hadn’t swallowed yet. 

Cas just smiled at him. “Shower,” he said, pointedly as Dean made for the bed. 

Dean groaned a protest. “Really?”

“I’ll wash your back,” Cas promised in an attempt to make the offer a little more enticing. 

It worked too though Dean still huffed at the prospect of being robbed of his bed even for just a little while longer. It didn’t seem so bad as Cas stripped him though, casting all his clothes onto the floor carelessly so that he could kiss every inch of skin as it was revealed. 

Dean was too tired to reciprocate; the special kind of bone-tired that seeped in at the end of a hunt and the long drive that inevitably followed it, but he leaned into the touch nonetheless. Though if Cas wasn’t careful, Dean was going to fall asleep there and then before they even got to the shower. 

They traded lazy kisses while they waited for the water to warm up before Cas pulled him under the glorious pressure and let the remains of the hunt wash away. Dean gave a soft groan as the warmth of the water trailed over him, only to be swiped away by the firm touch of Cas’ hands. The smell of the fancy body wash Cas had gotten for him when Sam had thrown yet another hissy fit over Dean using his stuff, danced its way into the steam as Cas washed every part of his husband. 

Dean smiled at the thought. That would never get old. 

Cas cupped him gently and though Dean was hard, he wasn’t desperate. He was happy enough to turn himself over to Cas’ loving ministrations knowing that Cas always knew exactly what he needed. He hadn’t expected Cas to thrust them both together into his hand but he wasn’t exactly surprised by it. 

Dean felt like he was floating on air, surrounded by warmth and scented steam as Cas covered his lips with his mouth and his cock with his hand. Dean came quietly and with a satisfied sigh into Cas’ ear. Cas didn’t hold out for long after that and they kissed their way through the pleasant aftershocks. 

Dean wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to get back to the bed with his legs practically jelly beneath him, but Cas had him. 

Cas always had him. 

There was a soft towel wrapped around him as Cas patted him dry and there were more kisses all the way back to the bedroom. 

“I love you, Dean,” Cas whispered against his lips as he closed the bedroom door behind them. 

Dean might have said something in response but he didn’t catch it. He let Cas steer him towards the bed and he was practically asleep before his head touched the pillow. But there was the warmth of the covers around him and the solid presence of Cas beside him, pressing kisses across the back of his shoulders. 

“Good night, Dean.” 

Dean smiled into the pillow and shuffled back so that his body pressed against the length of his husband’s. His husband who he loved with every ounce of his being and wasn't afraid to admit to himself or others. Castiel: Angel of the Lord who belonged entirely to Dean Winchester. 

As it was meant to be.

“G’night, Cas.”


End file.
